Exalted: Heavens Warriors - Episode 1, Scene 1: Meetings and Processions

[Fate]

The main room of the Rutting Boar was loud, poorly lit, stank of sailors and ale and was filled with the sort of shadowy corners that would have warmed a Guild Factor's heart. It was the kind of place where you could find yourself propositioned by a kitchen doxy one minute and gasping through the new slit in your throat the next, and it had only three things to recommend it: it had the best ale and the cheapest edible food in town, the City Watch rarely bothered to check up on it on the theory that bad business left unseen was least likely to cause trouble, and Jarek One-Eye, the tough old Westerner who'd quit sailing to open the place, was as honest a man as could be found in his trade. Which was to say that once he was bought, he stayed bought.

A particularly drunk young merchant's apprentice stumbled away from the bar, caught him self on a half-concealed table, and found himself looking up... and up... at a massive Southerner whose dark skin and darker hair were punctuated by the deep green of his open tunic and whose broad shoulders would have been intimidating enough without the massive chopping sword belted to his side. He didn't say a word, but then, he didn't have to. A long, implacable look was enough to send the boy on his way.

“They're late.” Emerald Mountain's voice rumbled against the surface of the table as he turned to lean a broad, calloused hand against it, looking down at his Captain with unreadable brown eyes. He didn't go on to reiterate his reservations about the entire idea of this job, but even Emerald's silent disapproval was an imposing presence.

“Travel is never precise.” The soft, almost toneless answer came from the half-shadowed corner of the table where a tall, lanky man nearly blended into the woodwork in his stillness. “And their coin will spend well enough.”

[z-Kything]

Shay smiled into her cup of rum; while the ale was the best, Shay preferred rum. Sadly, One-Eye's rum was not as good as his ale. "True enough, Shade," she remarked to her companion. Her green eyes glinted in the dim lighting of the bar, idly appraising the people in the room.

A deep sigh pulled her attention back to her first mate. "Don't worry, Emerald, even if they never show, the worst we've done is had each other's pleasant company for a few hours and bought some shitty rum," Shay pointed out. The first part was fine; the second was not, and Shay had plans to open a bottle of the better stuff as soon as she got back to ship. Only good rum can wash away the aftertaste of the bad.

Behind her, the mospid's claws dug into her wooden chair; it shifted slightly, nervous in the dark room but stubbornly remaining close to her. It trilled suddenly, dragging eyes to their table. Shay reached up and grabbed the narrow serpentine jaws, grumbling, "Shush, you."

As just as she'd comforted the bird, Shay reached up and laid a hand on Emerald's arm. "Relax, big guy," she said softly, briefly serious. That lasted for only seconds before her mouth quirked up into an irrepressible grin. "It really is a win-win for you. Either we get a job, and coin, or you get to say, I told you so."

[Fate]

In spite of himself, Emerald found a wry smile on his lips. His Captain's good humor was nearly unshakeable, and infectious to boot. "Aye, sir. I suppose that's rare enough I should take it when I can, eh?"

[Althea]

Almost perversely, the dilapidated front door of the Boar squeaked open. The pirates, even if they had not been constantly watching the door for their prospective clients, would have had their eyes drawn instantly to the figures--or rather, figure--that was now the center of attention. In a room full of the jaded, it was a strange thing to see every thug, urchin, whore, barman, and ne'er-do-well staring in amazement.

The woman in front strode purposefully, but not hurriedly, her diaphanous gown lifted ever so slightly by her movement. Her golden boots struck the filthy floor in the sudden hush as her jeweled bracers and gleaming breastplate seemed to illuminate the squalor. Even so, however brightly those golden armaments shamed the gloom of the tavern, it was the woman herself who shone the brightest.

It was not her Western-solid beauty, nor the value of the things she wore. It wasn't the fighter's grace evident in her step or monk's purity of spirit in her expression. Rather, it was the cascade of absolute and personal revelation she left in her wake. It was the sense, palpable to everyone in the room, that this woman was what they had been waiting and working and bleeding for, for their entire lives.

Moving past the bar and the gaping barman, she scanned the room. As her eyes touched the motley patrons, many gasped, some wept, others reflexively gripped their weapons in fear; everyone forgot what he or she had been doing. The gravity of the woman's charisma pulled all the other social trajectories towards her, organizing the earthly chaos into celestial logic around the sun of her presence.

As her gaze found Shay, the woman paused in the center of the room. An electric moment stretched between the two women, filling the room with possibility. Some of the other customers stared at Shay and whispered among themselves, trying to figure out why she was so important to this goddess. The woman paid them no notice, studying Shay as peacefully as though she were completely alone.

The moment stretched further, and the noise in the room rose to a murmur, as the tension likewise grew. On the cusp of outbreak, the Western woman spoke.

"You are Shay," she stated. The crowd immediately quieted again, struck to the heart with the timbre and melody of her voice.

Only now taking a step forward, she approached Shay's table.

"These are my companions, Thousand Whispers and Anaris," she said, introducing the two other women who had entered with her.

"I am Althea. We are here to hire your ship."

[Thousand Whispers]

"Ehehe..." Thousand Whispers gulped nervously at her companion's bold declaration. She knew that the Shining Ones of the Sequestered Tabernacle were ingrained with boldness and valor, but behind a nervous chuckle, she wondered if they were taught subtlety or expected to learn it themselves. Ah, well. At least, by her apprisal, Anaris seemed more genteel. Different tools for different jobs, no doubt.

"My most vainglorious compatriot is quite correct", she stepped forward, giving the impression that if she'd a hat, she would have removed it out of respect. "My name is Thousand Whispers, humble servant and savant, and as per our prior discourse, we have arrived, as promised and in good faith, to secure and commission your vessel, crew, and personage in the pursuit of our personal endeavors and, naturally, what I hope to be the common good of all parties involved." She smiled again, adorably harmless amidst her bureaucratic ramblings, like a bunny rabbit asking for your identification. "I trust we did not inconvenience you too greatly with our most regrettable tardiness, oh radiant soul?"

[z-Kything]

Had Shay not been sitting, she could have been knocked down with an errant breeze. That woman was stunning; a woman had to be incredible for Shay to notice her, and to get this kind of reaction meant that the woman before her was something else entirely. Something more than human.

Stupid Thing helped; the mospid grumbled and then hissed, defensively dropping its head and half spreading its wings. The brush of those wings returned her to the bar. Emerald's arm was still under her hand, and contact with her Mountain helped, steadied her in the storm of raging thoughts and emotions. It also helped her catch the statement from the blue-haired woman.

"All's well and good," Shay remarked, giving Emerald's arm a gentle squeeze before waving them into seats. "The lurking man over thataway is Shade; the big man here is Emerald Mountain, my first mate. The mess of scale and feather on the back of my chair is Stupid Thing, the ship's mascot of sorts. And yes, my ship is for hire, and I'll sail you to most places, but I have a few rules.

"One," and one weathered, callused index finger rose to emphasize her rules, "there are no fancy airs on my ship. That doesn't mean you folks can't do what you want. You are passengers, and so long as you don't offend Freedom's little god, set my boat on fire, sink her, cause her to be boarded or cause a mutiny, I don't care what you do. But I am just Captain Shay. I know you mean no offense," she added as her eyes rested on Thousand Whispers, "but I want only the status that being Captain gives me. I'm well and content with that."

Her middle finger joined her index, glittered with a fat ring. "You listen to my crew. I don't mean asking how high when they say jump; I mean if they say something is dangerous, you heed them. You don't have to take orders from them, but they're a good crew, and they know what they're about. If they advise or warn you, ignore them at your peril.

"No personal questions," Shay said as her ring finger popped up. "Every one on-ship was a slave on the previous ship, and not all of us care to talk about how or why we were there. We're freemen now; we've taken that right, and with it, comes the right to not have to discuss our pain."

Her pinky rose, also glittering with a ring. "Don't touch my personal stock of rum. I'll share a cup or three with ya, but if you convince my crew to sneak you some, I'll be greatly put out.

"And last, for the love of the gods, don't feed Stupid Thing cooked meat," Shay said, her thumb coming into play for a moment before the hand folded into a fist and dropped to the table. "Makes him crazy." She glanced at the tall Southerner next to her. "Did I cover everything Emerald?"

At the silent man's nod, Shay turned back to the others. "Would you like some ale while you tell me where you need to go? And also, any other specifics which would be important. Like iffen someone wants to kill you badly enough to sink my ship."

[z023]

Anaris watched the others as they made their impressions from behind dark, cool eyes. She was perfectly content to be overshadowed by Althea's grandeur or Thousand Whispers' obsequiousness. Her plain blue robes, simple hair style, and lack of adornments made her supremely unremarkable compared to the others. Her face was a study in perfect control, betraying neither her minor annoyances with those she had come here with, nor her nervousness at so many eyes upon herself and her companions.

[Althea]

Althea seated herself on a rough-hewn wooden stool in one fluid motion, resting bejeweled forearms on the stained and pitted surface of the table. Sitting, she barely came up to Emerald Mountain's chin, and yet already commanded the table.

At the front of the room, the grizzled old barman had managed to break his fascination with the woman and resume wiping glasses. His narrow, cautious stare took in his establishment, and a brief frown creased his brow. Everyone in the room was staring at the group in the center, and the dynamic, unlike any other he'd ever seen in his bar, disturbed him. He checked the shelf under the counter for his cudgel and hatchet, and relaxed somewhat to see them both where they should be.

Completely oblivious to the collective attention of the tavern, Althea spoke, her golden eyes gently and inescapably holding Shay captive.

"We agree to your rules, Captain," she said, and her word was as solid as the most solemn vow. "We will do our utmost to protect your ship and crew.

"As for the details," she continued, and here her voice took on gilding and fanfare, "we are going wherever Realm ships sail, to crush their filthy enterprises and weaken their stranglehold on Creation.

"We are the midwives of a new age," she proclaimed, "a new age of change and opportunity, not just for the rulers, but for everyone." Now, her voice was the call of trumpets summoning warriors to battle, and its effects on Shay, her mates, and the crowd was visible as everyone leaned in towards Althea.

"Yes, there are many who would see us dead. There are many who wish to strangle this glorious future in its own birth-cord. They are our enemies, and they are yours, Captain, as they are the enemies of everyone who is not rich, powerful, and blasphemous."

Althea paused to sweep her gaze around the table and draw in Emerald and Shade, though many would swear later that she included the whole room.

"So, you of the Freedom's Tempest, will you lend your ship and your skill to the freedom of Creation?"

Quote:

From Fate:

Charisma + Performance: 7 successes

MDV of the bar, adjusted: 1

Adjusted MDV of Thousand Whispers, Shay and Anaris: 6

Everyone spend 1 Willpower or be caught up in the moment.

Jarek spends 1 Willpower.

[Thousand Whispers]

A single bead of sweat escaped Thousand Whispers' brow as the mammoth, radiant woman's stirring harangue came to a conclusion. Thousand Whispers expected such inciteful discourse from a Shining One, naturally, and further expected that the plebes and mortals would naturally throng under Althea's banner. What she had not expected was to feel a similar tug on her own thread. She gulped and sat stock still for a moment in mute horror: she had to remind herself of who and what she was, what function she was here to serve. The Shining Ones were her charges, not the reverse. She instantly resolved to meditate on this matter and further bolster her rational defenses...it simply wouldn't do to have her falling under the sway of her own wards.

The speech, of course, was ridiculous. A very base, rice-like form of propaganda, but such was the power of the Shining Ones that it nevertheless worked, as it was plain to see from the still, limpid, glassy stares and scarleted cheeks of the bar's patrons, who crackled together with the sort of nervous energy that precludes a daring homeland defense. Or a violent and murderous mob. Althea had done in a moment what it would take her a week. She was awed.

Whether she had realized it or not, the Solar had very probably just unwittingly recruited half the people in the room to their cause. Thousand Whispers found this as frightening as she did intriguing.

[Fate]

The low, humming pulse of intensity crackled through the bar like the first edge of daylight spilling across the sea, every eye in the bar caught and held by the glorious certainty of the gold-clad beauty who had seated herself across from Captain Shay. Even Emerald Mountain's normally dour countenance was visibly illuminated with awe, though he seemed to shake it off after a moment to lean protectively near his captain. Of the entire room, only Thousand Whispers and Shade seemed unmoved; the narrow-faced man's hands shifted slightly on the table as though fighting the urge to reach for one of his concealed daggers, but he controlled the impulse.

Quote:

Emerald Mountain and Shade each spend 1 Willpower.

[z-Kything]

Shay wanted to throw her fist in the air and proclaim her allegiance to overthrowing the evil Realm. She wanted to take up arms and follow this woman into battle. But her jacket, stiff and heavy from the thick, embroidered fabric, and it wieghed her down, a tangible reminder of her duties. And as much as she wanted to declare for this woman, to follow her and maybe even worship her, she couldn't.

Originally Posted By: Stuff happens!

Shay spends a Willpower point. Sorry, Althea... she has to be devoted to her ship.

"Well, that was a pretty speech," Shay admitted, leaning back in her chair so she could prop her boots on the table. She was about to say more, but Stupid Thing squawked and flapped his wings, trying to regain his balance. Shay herself was almost tipped by the sudden shift of her bird, and what was supposed to be a smooth, casual movement turned into an almost-fall, followed by a dance-like shift to regain her balance.

Fighting back a bright flush, Shay said, "As I said: pretty speech. But you'll understand iffen my ship and crew comes first and fore, yes?" She lifted her mug for more rum, only to choke and spit it back up when she caught a floating feather in her teeth. "Stupid Thing," she growled, scowling up at the mospid. "You ruin everything."

[Thousand Whispers]

Thousand Whispers saw an opportunity to inject a bit of sanity into the proceedings and seized it, with fervor. "Naturally, oh Glori-- er, Captain Shay", she smiled crisply. "My exalted compatriot's prowess and passion is something I think I can speak for all when I say is a quality in her that we admire, love, and revere her for." With a demure batting of her eyelashes, she looked up to the woman (it always felt like looking "up" to her, no matter where she was positioned) with an almost longing awe, as if to tell her how thoroughly she was valued, and continued, addressing the captain again, "But naturally, we would never expect you to violate your own sensibilities or to place a chartered group of rogues such as we above your own crewmen. We gladly acquiesce to your edicts and you have my word that we shall do our level best to meet and exceed the standard you set on board." Almost fawning, but without a hint of being cloying, simply friendly, charming, earnest, she added, "I hope that in time our causes will align and you'll come to think of us as friends. Until then, we humbly submit ourselves to your stewardship."

Originally Posted By: Dice Monkey

Thousand Whispers wants to make a super-happy good impression on their new friend, and is going to use a Charm to help that process! She rolls the Charm's pool and results with:

8, 2, 2, 7, 0, 7, 4, 7. Plus 3 auto successes for her Essence, that's a total of 9 successes! Yay!

[z-Kything]

The pretty lady was a nut - the old saying, "She drinks too much bad milk," popped to mind. But the blue-haired woman seemed sensible, and okay. Shay wondered if she liked rum.

"That's good to hear," Shay said, wondering who was really in charge. Not the quiet brunette with the dark eyes, certainly; no, the leadership position was between Althea and Thousand Whispers. And Shay was leaning toward Thou-pers - she was issuing the orders while Alty was all pretty sayings and emotional arousals.

"So, let's discuss logistics," she said. "How many people do you have with you? Any animals? Any special equipment?"

[Althea]

Althea returned Thousand Whispers' praise with a smile before addressing Shay's question.

"We have no animals. The passengers will be the three of us," she said, gesturing to her companions, "sixteen warriors, a courtesan, and a chemist. The courtesan travels with several musical instruments.

"The chemist," Althea continued, gesturing with a golden arm, "Will have some unusual apparatus. She has traveled with them before and, with minimal help from your crew, can have it safely stowed."

"Tell me, Captain," she said, resting her pretty chin on folded hands, "How is the ventilation in your galley?"

[z-Kything]

"Twenty-one people?" Shay said, her face going limp with surprise. She glanced up at Emerald for a moment before repeating, "Twenty-fucking-one? My ship is... not that big. If you want to bring all of them and still use my Freedom, some of 'em will need to bunk down in the hold. We just don't have the cabin space."

Looking at just Althea, Shay replied, "We have enough ventilation for the crew to safely fart and breathe at the same time. We actully go on farting shifts to make sure that we don't upset the level of breathable to non-breathable air. I hope that ya're not thinking of stressing that delicate balance we have developed."

[Thousand Whispers]

Thousand Whispers was most gratified to see both Captain Shay and Althea still seemed to be paying her mind as though she were a participant in these proceedings; she was at that, of course, but amongst a pair of Shining Ones (even including one as apparently humble as the captain), she felt very fortunate to be counted at all. It was all she could do to wrangle a drop of consideration forth using the full force of her Sidereal gifts.

"The majority of our entourage will be happy to bunk in the hold", she interjected with an apparent high note, smiling as if she delivered (what she hoped was) good news. "They are soldiers of no small fortitude, and will be content so long as it is dry. And if it isn't, well, they can adapt. They are superb warriors following a gifted leader", she continued, touching the goddess on the shoulder to indicate her, "and in accepting this mission they knew they were in for some hardship. I dare say they are anticipating it with bated breath.

"As for the subject of ventilation", she pointedly addressed, "Our resident alchemist periodically prepares a variety of substances that members of our organization take as a sort of religious sacrament. Their creation is extremely simple and should put no strain on your vessel's air supply."

[z023]

Anaris closed her eyes briefly while Althea and Thousand Whispers discussed the logistics of the trip, thankful once again that she did not wear her own face amongst so many gathered together. Or where Althea could see the effect she had on the usually staid monk.

I'd be more worried about the Realm ships than the alchemist, Captain Shay. Althea's right, she's trying to give birth to a new age, or perhaps an old one. Either way, birth always means blood. Blood and death, in our case. She didn't voice this opinion out loud, academy and the Tabernacle had taught her how to hold her tongue so well she was near-mute, but her eyes spoke volumes as the traveled over the seasoned Captain, the mospid on her shoulder, and the first mate at her side.

Softly she asked, "Will your ship hold enough provisions for our company if our warriors are bunked in the hold? Soldiers in scurvy do our mission little good." Her voice was low and rich, and pitched perfectly to carry no farther than the ears it was intended for. The words themselves carried only a trace of the accent of her childhood and mostly the flavor of one who has seen many corners of Creation in their lifetime.

[Fate]

Emerald Mountain's low rumble was unusually hesitant, as though intruding on the council of four demi-gods was enough to rattle even his unflappable nerve, but there was a confident certainty in his voice. "We'll do well enough with supplies and a few extra passengers, Captain. Long as their people don't mind sleeping friendly with each other, we'll find the room."

[z-Kything]

"Suren enough, Emerald," Shay said, nodding up at her first mate. Glancing back at the unusual trio, Shay added, "I didn't mean to imply that we'd have no room for supplies. Our hold will accommodate your soldiers and enough supplies for everyone easily, with some room left over for some loot." Her smile reminded everyone that they were dealing with a pirate here, an outlaw who risked life and limb for a reason.

"Which leads me to the division of loot," Shay continued. "What percentage are you folks going to be wanting?"

[z023]

Anaris allowed herself to fade into the background, giving no apology for her question as it had needed to be asked. Treasure, however, was none of her concern. She watched the her companions and the ship captain bandy out the rules of this strange marriage of divine mission and mortal greed, wondering who over the next few months would emerge victor and leader of them all. Althea held the most obvious advantage, but in this Age appearance, even divine mandate, was often trumped by clever mortals or the twisting strands of fate's humor.

[Althea]

Althea had followed the group discussion silently, nodding her approval as each detail was agreed upon. Her comfort in letting the others decide suggested that she did not concern herself with such matters.

Now, as they had gotten to another foundation of the pirates' commitment, Althea's gaze took on raptor focus.

"We want twenty-five percent," she informed Shay, "Of all currency, saleable cargo, and artifacts taken." Her voice was firm, brooking no argument, though at the same imparting that her plan was both fair and reasonable. "Any useful information gleaned will be shared among all of us, and taken vessels are yours entirely."

[z-Kything]

"Well, that's not bad, save one small problem," Shay said. "Iffen I'm getting all the ships, we have another resource ya're forgettin'. The captured crew, whichen equal ransoms."

Shay paused to fish another feather out of her drink before choking down a swallow. "Iffen I'm gettin' the ships and crews, which seems logical, that's a lot of money. But there's an issue there. It takes time an' effort an' organization to do ransoms. Same thing with the ships - you need to take a crew with you ta get'em home. I generally avoid them because I'm lazy.

"That, sadly for you, substanially reduces your offer," Shay pointed out, with only a touch of mockery, and even that was more playful than cruel. "I don't necessarily want the difficulty of messin' with the ships or the ransoms on the crew. Let's try this: ya mentioned artifacts. I presume you mean things like this." Shay held up an arm and pushed the coat back, revealing a golden bracer that protected her forearm. "Such things do us - those like you and me - the best. My crew could sell them for some money, but they'll have an easier time selling the portable cargo and currency. So we split all such artifacts four ways, between us. Portable cargo is split fifteen percent to you, the rest to my ship. And if that's not enough, your organization can take over the ransoms and the ships captured."

[z023]

"Ransoms."

The word slipped from Anaris' lips like a child testing unknown waters. She gave her companions questioning looks.

She noted the pattern on Captain Shay's bracer while she waited for a response, keeping such details tucked away in the part of her mind that belonged to her caste mark and all the talents the Unconquered Sun had exalted her soul for so long ago.

"Is that wise?"

[Thousand Whispers]

The blue-haired sprite half-released a sigh of relief when she at least heard a sentence ending with the characteristic up-tone of a question. Indeed, she'd been dumbstruck since her companion had uttered the words "twenty-five percent", and had spent the intervening time very probably trying not to swallow her own tongue wondering whether that oaf Venerable Silk taught his Shining Ones the deft art of bargaining. Honestly, twenty-five percent? Why not work for room and board? The accumulation of wealth and resources is every so complicated, after all, is it not?

Thousand Whispers momentarily ground her teeth and swallowed barely noticeably, bringing herself to cut into the conversation just as Althea had left it open like a fencer off her gaurd. "Quite so!", she smiled. "For political and financial reasons, ransom can be quite lucrative, oh radiant one. There is a reason they call it a "King's Ransom", after all." She smiled, seeing the thoughtful concern written on the other woman's face, and assured her, as she assumed Captain Shay would, that "We needn't treat them poorly, of course. Nothing about the state of ransom necessarily imply torture or even mistreatment. It is my understanding that ransomed prisoners are most frequently treated as their station in life dictates, insofar as their ransomer can accommodate. Is that not so, oh glor-- Captain Shay?"

The woman's face seemed to silently offer provisional assent to the notion, so Thousand Whispers continued without missing a beat. "Now, while in no way discounting the proposal first made by my illustrious colleague, bearing in mind your very thoughtful and generous counterpoint, Captain, allow me to amend thusly:" The petite, sunny woman took a deep breath, calculating her offer, and began. "Naturally, the division of any and all artifacts should be levied according to the manner of instrument acquired and who it could be best utilized by. We have, at present, a total of four who are known to be capable of handling such devices, though it is our hope that we will acquire more in the future, and clearly we'll have to reevaluate this division at such a time as that should become necessary. Any and all artifacts of little or no value by anyone presently on board can be stowed away for future use or, with a unanimous decision, be disposed of in some mutually-agreed-upon manner. Ransoms shall be paid out in shares of sixty percent to yourself and your crew, forty percent to we three, with the stipulation that we arrange and deliver the subject of ransom of our own accord and said ransomeer be boarded on the vessel. Furthermore, I propose that the individual or individuals responsible for said capture be awarded an additional five percent from the top as an incentive, to be awarded only after ransom is secured. Coin and other saleable booty will be divided up likewise, with the condition that all maintenance costs for the vessel itself is apportioned out before shares are divided up, excluding pay and shares of booty to your ship's crew. In the event that our organization should for some reason desire to not see a particular piece or lot of plunder sold, we will pay your percentage on the market price of saleable goods out of pocket. Lastly, since our organization has an eye towards expansion, I have no doubt we will be able to make fair use of any captured vessels, I propose than any vessels so captured be manned by members of our organization and operate autonomously of your ship, in the interest of not bringing any trouble upon your head for any actions, real or imagined, such a crew may commit."

The words all came tumbling out all at once, in a blinding whirlwind of bureaucratic clauses, one long, unbroken string of legalese. If Thousand Whispers knew that anybody didn't quite follow it all, she paid no mind. She rattled off the whole thing like she was reading from some boiler plate contract, like she'd done this a hundred times before. "Naturally", she smiled, seemingly totally unfazed, "we can reevaluate these conditions upon the occasion of any event that we feel changes the dynamic of our arrangement. Are those terms acceptable, Captain?"

[z023]

Anaris sighed, her point having been entirely missed in the barrage of legalese pouring forth from the Sidereal at breakneck pace. She spoke softly again, in a manner where any interruption would lose her words completely.

"Ransom is complicated," she echoed Captain Shay though her words carried the cadence of teacher with students choosing to be dimwitted. "And invites contact, familiarity, and danger unnecessary to us from both the captives and their ransomers. Anyone worth our time to ransom should not be given the opportunity to report our behaviors or descriptions back to more powerful masters. Those that pose little threat to us will not garner ransom worth the time invested."

She paused, her eyes coming to rest on Althea. "Oh, there is glory, I suppose, in having stories of hushed horror told by sailors in calm waters of the demon ship and her valkyrie crew, and if that is our intent then I was....misinformed." The twist of sardonic dark humor was perhaps the first true emotion to show through her calm facade. "But if we merely seek to sap the strength of the Houses' navies, and so the strength of the Realm, then swift, silent, and total strikes are to our best advantage. Ships are built faster than crews, after all."

She did not settle back into the shadows this time, but kept her eyes upon Captain Shay and her companions, judging their reactions to her icy logic.

[z-Kything]

Shay dropped her feet off the table, elicting another perturbed squawk from the mospid behind her. "Let's be frank," Shay said, and there was a slight change to her tone. Gone was that mild inflection of unconcerned incaution; instead, Shay was all business. "What exactly were you planning to do with the crews, if you take the ships? You say you want to black the Realm's eye, but how exactly were you thinking about doing it?"

[Thousand Whispers]

"Any way we can." Thousand Whispers momentarily found her tongue caught for the second time that encounter, but once again managed to rebound quickly enough to interject a quick answer and - she hoped - a dose of pragmatism. The young Sidereal was not one to get easily flustered, but finding herself apparently at odds on every details of their mission with her Solar counterparts was quickly becoming frustrating. She didn't know what Venerable Silk or their instructors at the Sequestered Tabernacle had told them about this mission, but it seemed that they had been allowed only the most narrow understanding of the path that lay before them.

But it wasn't easy to simply say "You're thinking too bloody small!" to one of the Shining Ones, and Thousand Whispers sweated and cursed and groped for a way to phrase just that diplomatically. "With all due and proper respect, oh Radiant One", she turned to Anaris, attempting to state her rationale, "I believe that we are both correct, m'lady. Our mission in this region is, as we stated, to erode the power of the Realm and expand the power of our own organization, and we were charged first with utilizing privateering upon naval targets as our first strike. Having said that, the full scope of our plan is vast, and I do believe, my worthy compatriots, that while wholesale destruction may better serve our purposes in the short term, it is not the most viable long-term strategy."

Like a potter, the sharp young woman smiled at the other three women as she molded the shape of their plan with a spinning stream of well-chosen words, picked especially to be most appealing to most people. Compromise and diplomacy, she affirmed herself, were the tools to getting what you wanted. She almost laughed, a tinkle of crystal music that wafted through the air as she attempted to soothe all involved. "I believe, oh Captain Shay, that my esteemed compatriots may have misspoken. Obviously, it will profit us nothing to get a reputation amongst seamen - who have families and friends and do their trading and crafting ashore, do they not? - as heartless brigands and slaughterers, correct? Let us not forget, dear ladies, that our quarrel is with the Realm, not those unfortunate enough to be forced to make their living under her thumb. Provisionally, I see no purpose at this moment in the prospect of taking scores of captives in order to extract some meager, vengeful pittance from those who likely would not pay for them in the first place. Naturally, combat will be a given, as I assume it generally is in your business, Captain, and lives will be lost, but we would do ourselves a disservice to show ourselves as butchers. Let us, instead, show our good will to the common folk of the region. Let us treat them gently and with good cheer when they are no longer at our throats, and let us send them home healthy and sound so that the people of the Realm will say to their friends and lovers 'These men who fight against the Realm are better men even than we!' As for those of grave or serious import, of which we can only hope there will be some, we can deal with such characters on a case-by-case basis, can we not? Are we not all honorable and intelligent women? Surely, we can evaluate the rectitude of a given course when such a decision should arrive.

"And as for being recognized, my dear Anaris", the girl smiled softly, turning her attention momentarily from the captain, "Should they not know who their saviors are? We are the Illuminated, oh my glorious peach, and they will know our faces soon enough. Subterfuge is something so cheap that only those who crawl in the mud can afford, as I'm sure Captain Shay can attest to. Captain?", she turned her attention again to the woman across the table, "When you come upon a ship you mean to take, do you not fly your personal standard high and proud? Do they not quake in fear at your very name, and do their slaves not silently cheer and bless you safety?" Grinning broadly, the petite young woman stood up, stamping a boot dramatically on the stool she sat upon, raising her fist to the air as she cheered, "And so should it be with we! Let every man, woman, and child of the Realm know that a time of blessed, golden change is upon them, and may every wretched cur who makes his profit on the bloodied backs of others know that their candle is nearly snuffed!"

[z-Kything]

'Oh glorious peach?' I may be wrong about who's drinkin' the bad milk here, Shay sighed to herself, pretending to prop her head on her hand so that she could covertly rub at her temple. "Not to dim your bushel light there, but I make my profit on the bloodied backs of others," Shay pointed out with a smirk. "Generally, those backs are bloody because I or Emerald here has put a sword in them, but my point stands." She paused, reviewed what she had said, and decided to clarify. "And that point is: ya're all in this for your ideals. I'm in it for profits. This is the way I keep myself in cheap rum and loosely-moralled boys.

"I mentioned the ransoms because of the remark about the ships. I have no desire to engage in ransoms, or in slavery so that we can salvage their ship, or in slitting throats so we can salvage the ships," Shay continued. "Ransoms are messy and take a lot of work; ship-taking requires that you either cut throats or put people on rafts and let the sea decide or take slaves. On the first, I will kill a man who's trying to kill me; killing prisoners don't agree with me. On the second, I'm not fond of such practices. On the last... well, I've told you we were all slaves at one point. I won't become that, not for anything.

"So that leaves us with two options: ya can either take responsibility - in all ways - for the captured ships and their ransoms, or we can let them go. And iffen we let them go... well, then that reduces profits over all, and even with the lack of extreme specialization ya are all bringin', I still have more people to pay."

Shay shrugged. "But clearly, ya folks have to decide what ya want to do. I have made a decision. I need more rum. Ya figure it out - I'll be at the bar. Emerald?" She liked having the large man with her when she bellied up to the bar; sometimes, she got missed in a crowd, but Emerald always caught the bartender's attention. She didn't call Shade after her; the other might forget he was there. It happened sometimes, and he might overhear something useful.

[Fate]

"Luna's tits, it's the Lieutenant." Her first mate's soft curse gave Shay half a moment's warning before she caught the sudden stillness in the front of the room herself. Almost a dozen men in poorly-made but well kept armor were pushing their way into the room, obviously under the direction of the tall man in a reinforced breastplate whose pale green hair and too-pale skin marked him out as a God-blooded as surely as the sigil on his shoulder-guards marked him as an officer in the City Watch.

The tension in the Rutting Boar racheted up an almost painful notch, at least a dozen of the patrons becoming suddenly very interested in their flagons or the wall or anything else that wouldn't expose their faces to the Watch. Emerald Mountain, on the other hand, pivoted slightly to lean against the bar in a fashion that looked entirely casual if you weren't close enough to notice his hand resting on the hilt of his chopping sword. His low rumble was too soft for anyone but Shay to hear. "Here's hoping he's not stupid enough to try to collect that reward money."

Which, in the way of such things, turned out to be an entirely vain hope. "Captain Shay!" The Lieutenant's voice rolled off the walls like the pounding of the surf, and he brandished the long jade polearm in his hands is a swift twirl the glittered dim light from the half a dozen blades at each end of the daikalbar. "You will lay down your weapons and surrender yourself to the Watch on charges of piracy, consorting with Anathema and disrupting the peace!"

[Thousand Whispers]

As Shay got up to walk away, Thousand Whispers could see it plainly in her face that her fervor hadn't quite carried over to the good captain. That was fine, she ruminated; she wasn't trying to start a riot, just end the debate without the two parties' opposing views leading to a disruption. There wasn't exactly a wealth of the Unconquered Sun's children in the seafaring trade and already set in opposition to the Realm as it was, let alone those already based around the east lands. This arrangement needed to work, and Thousand Whispers wasn't about to allow some quibbling over the minutiae of privateering lose the forest for them.

Momentarily drained, the petite woman took a sip from her glass wearily as the captain and her cohorts neared the bar. She consulted Althea and Anaris' faces in silence, mentally knitting together the tangled cat's cradle of motivations that would bring them together.

She was almost so distracted that she didn't see the small knot of troops enter the bar, headed up by some little god's bastard. The moment he said Shay's name, she knew things had turned south; then he spouted off his list of charges and his demands. Thousand Whispers smiled, and gave a fraction of a thought to wonder if someone was looking out for her. Either way, she knew an opportunity when she saw it. Coolly, she consulted her own flagon, swishing the liquid around within, and prepared for the inevitable.

[z023]

Anaris sighed at the intrusion of the god-born, caught between the reluctance for what would probably come and her pleasure at the end of the conversation. She took to the shadows of the room, preferably unoccupied ones, and took up residence there to watch the unfolding drama. She ran her fingertips over her bracers, putting her mind through the patterns of violence and death.

Quote:

Anaris rolls for stealth (5 suxx: 10, 3, 8, 1, 9, 9, 1) and spends 7 motes on Instruction in Self Form Charm (6 activation, 1 to mute the anima banner).

Anaris' Status: Personal Essence 9, Peripheral Essence 29, Willpower 6, no damage, Dodge DV 7 and Parry DV 7, move on tick 7.

[z-Kything]

Originally Posted By: The Asshat

"Captain Shay!" The Lieutenant's voice rolled off the walls like the pounding of the surf, and he brandished the long jade polearm in his hands is a swift twirl the glittered dim light from the half a dozen blades at each end of the daikalbar. "You will lay down your weapons and surrender yourself to the Watch on charges of piracy, consorting with Anathema and disrupting the peace!"

Shay turned and leaned against the bar, her mug in one hand - not her sword hand. As he displayed his weapon, Shay sighed and rolled her eyes. And as he started to list her crimes, Shay lifted a hand, made a hand-puppet and began to flap the mouth in a rough approximation of the Lieutenant's own flapping jaw.

When he was done speaking, the hand kept moving; Shay pitched her voice into the highest saprano she could manage and warbled out, "My name is Lieutenant Swift Waters-down-my-leg, and I'm stttooooopid."

[Fate]

[Tick 0]

"You miscreant!" The roar of Swift Waters' voice rolled off the walls with enough force to rattle the bottles behind the bar. "Guards, seize her!"

Eight of the eleven watchmen rushed the bar, their mix of hammers, short swords and spears clearing the area between the Lieutenant and the bar in an instant, and several of the spearmen took a jab at Shay to drive her back against the bar. They weren't nearly quick enough; a deft sidestep carried her easily out of the way and let the blades of the spears jab furrows across the bar. One them, unfortunately for him, shattered Shay's glass and sent the contents splashing out over the bar.

Quote:

Shade mades a Dex+Stealth roll (six successes) to conceal himself and takes a Guard action.

Watchmen D through K each make an attack against Shay. All miss.

Watchmen D, E, F and G are armed with spears, Watchmen H and I with hammers, and Watchmen J and K with short swords. H, I, J and K form the first rank and more or less enclose her against the bar, with D-G making attacks over their shoulders with the long spears.

[Thousand Whispers]

[Tick 1]

Thousand Whispers' smile was like light glinting off a swinging blade as she wheeled around in her seat and shot up to her feet, one hand flinging her half-full flagon into the air as the other darted to liberate the bulge on her hip. With a laugh, a squinted eye, and her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth, she drew up on the little god's bastard, the corner of her mouth turning up just slightly, and with a hiss and a clap of thunder, the firewand in her hand blasted forth an arrow-thin gout of...well, it wasn't fire.

Originally Posted By: Dice!

Thousand Whispers makes a DEX+Archery roll with her firewand and uses Generalized Ammunition Technique (1 mote) to supplement. She rolls 1, 3, 4, 5, 5, 7, 9, 0, 0,7 for a total of seven successes.

Fate: Her single stunt die awards her a mote of essence and two more successes.

Personal: 7/12

Peripheral: 29/33 (4 commited)

Willpower: 5/6

No damage

Dodge DV: 4 until next action, Parry DV: 3 until next actions.

[Fate]

[Tick 1/Tick 2]

The blazing mixture of flame and grain alcohol exploded across the Lieutenant's face and hands, flame gleaming the whole length of his daikalbar as he staggered back against the wall, and when he pushed himself back up with his eyes nearly glowing with rage his hair and face were black with burns, obviously wounded but more than ready to shed the offender's blood. The tall guardsman beside him wasn't nearly so fortunate; caught in the wide splash of the firewand's shot, he crumpled to the ground in a sizzling heap. Patrons bolted for the walls, desperate to clear the area around the combatants, and the smoking barrel of Thousand Whisper's plasma tongue repeater gleamed with residual heat.

Emerald Mountain's sword came free of its sheath with a swift, lethal blow that shattered the spear of one of Shay's attacks and laid the man on the floor in a spray of blood and broken armor. He had no need of a battle-cry: the brutal power of weapon and the strength behind it were announcement enough. In the savage efficency of his attack, hardly anyone noticed the watchman whose sword was aiming for Shay's side dropping to the floor with a pair of daggers in his throat.

Quote:

Thousand Whispers'attack deals 7 dice of damage after Swift Water's soak, for a total of 3 lethal health levels of damage, and 4 health levels of lethal damage to Watchman B, who is now out of the fight.

Emerald Mountain kills Watchman G with his chopping sword, and Shade kills Watchman J with a flurry of thrown daggers.

[z-Kything]

"MYYY RUUUUUUMMMMMMMMM!" The unholy shriek carried over the din of the bar as a golden glow suffused the room, lighting it. Shay became a terrible creature as she regarded the trencher handle in her hand, while rum soaked through her sleeve. Her green eyes seemed to crackle with power and rage as she looked up, and they seemed to pierce the body of the offending watchman as they fell on him.

The unfortunate watchman who had a split second to make peace with his gods; then Shay's sword was in her hand, and it was slamming into his chest. "YOU. SPLIT. MY. RUM!" the green-eyed, golden demon screamed at him as he was driven to the floor, her blow almost shredding the tissues of his body.

Shay was dragged downward by the body on her sword, leaving her open for an attack. Another guardsman took advantage, raising his sword for a blow on her. It left him unprotected when she came up without warning, driving the pommel of her sword into his throat, crushing it. Choking, he fell, already dying but not not quite aware of his fate.

Originally Posted By: Dice and stuff

Shay draws her sword.

Shay rolls 16 dice to Stabby-stabby #1! 10 successes [2,8,7,2,9, 9,10,6,1,9, 4,10,4,5,7, 2] + 0 stunt successes [5]

Shay rolls 10 dice to Stabby-stabby #2! 4 successes [1,2,7,4,9, 8,2,3,8,3] + 1 stunt success [7]

Status: 15 Personal essence, 21 peripheral essence

Dodge DV - 5, Parry DV - 3

Willpower - 6

Fate: Watchmen F and K are now one with the great cycle of being

[Althea]

Althea sat calmly at the table while the others made their attacks, sizing up the situation. The chaos flowed around her like rapids around a boulder; she didn't even flinch when a Watchman's spear whistled by her head and sent several strands of dark, silken hair floating to the floor. It was only when the Lieutenant threw himself at the table that she acted.

Faster than anyone would have expected, Althea took a twisting, backwards dive off her stool. Her armor glinted in the dim light, obscured and revealed by turns as her translucent gown swirled around her. She landed with one hand on the floor, the jewel on her arm winking refracted golden light. The Lieutenant barely had time to perceive an attack before Althea's heavy golden boot crushed into his chest.

Originally Posted By: Dice and Stuff

Althea Thunderclap Rushes (Speed 3 to next action) the Lieutenant with a kick. Althea rolls 19 dice with 13 successes [2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 5, 5, 7, 7, 7, 8, 8, 8, 8, 9, 0, 1, 7, 0]. Owie. + 2 stunt successes [10]

Status: 16 Personal Essence, 26 peripheral

Dodge DV: 8

Parry DV (hands): 7

Parry DV (feet): 5

Willpower: 7

[Fate]

The hideous ringing sound of steel crumpling was punctuated by a cry of shocked pain that cut off in a wet gurgle as Swift Waters flew backward like a broken doll, smashing through a table and cruching into the heavy slats of the wall with enough force to send spliters dancing through the air as he slid to the floor in a shattered heap.

The six surviving Watchmen looked from the blazing demon who'd just laid out two of their fellows to the gold-armored amazon who'd just destroyed the Lieutenant in a single blow, and their courage broke like brittle twigs. They flung their weapons to the floor and ran for the doorway as though all the demons of Malfeas were hard at their heels.

Quote:

Swift Waters takes 16 dice of bashing damage for 8 health levels of damage, dropping him to Incapacitated.

The remaining Watchmen fail their Valor checks in spectacular fashion. Anyone who wants to take potshots after them is welcome to, but organized resistance has ceased.

[z-Kything]

Shay makes no move to stop the Watchmen; she seems to have spent her anger on the first unfortunate fellow. Now, she launched a kick at the departing ass of one of the men with a savage grin.

"Now, then," she said, turning to the others. "We need to be getting ta my ship. The Watch will surely return, and they'll be angry as a kicked bee hive. Get your people there; we'll work this out once we're safe at sea."

[Thousand Whispers]

A slow, confident grin spread across Thousand Whispers' face, having finally been summoned away from her triumphant, post-battle dancing from atop her stool. With a grin, she hopped off, doing a pirouette in the air as she landed. "I agree wholeheartedly, Captain. Oh Exalted Beacons?", she turned her attention to the other Solars in her retinue. "Shall we?"