Exalted: Dead Waters

[Arhra]

Hey look, it's Seeker of a Distant Day, for Lumen's session!

[Lumenskir]

Might be a little late to the session tonight, no more than an hour and a half. Apologies.

[PhoenixFlame]

Last session's lessons:

1.) Silver Prince tries to teach us how to be friends
2.) We fail horribly.
3.) Do not taunt solar exalt
4.) We're not good with manses. "Emergency; all personell must evacuate immediately. You now have four minutes to reach minimum safe distance."

[Steel Shadow]

Last time, on Dead Waters:

1: The team comes together to combat the greatest threat creation has ever faced!
2: That threat is also on the team. And is usually the problem solver.
3: Through sheer pluck and ridiculousness, the team manages to save the land, and it's ruler!
4: The land is filled with evil and jerks, and the ruler is Evil Jesus.
5: But hey, we got everything we wanted, and all it cost us was emptying one limit bar!
6: We got what we wanted by being worse than Evil Jesus.

Truly, today was a victory for the Solars.

[Krylo]

Did some pad cleaning, some of the stuff I deleted

"Elly, it's not that we want you to be just a sword to cut down our enemies, it's that when you open your mouth and say something, anything, it's always terrible." "What *I* say is terrible?" *Suddenly cracks a hysteric, long laugh* You actually managed to drive her *more insane*, Jubal. It's supposed to be impossible to go past 10 limit, but you somehow managed. You just... have a gift. It's good he wasn't there. I might've picked him up and thrown him agaisnt a wall and said he should show more respect. He probably woulda gotten himself killed, yes. And then we'd have to be sad about it or something. "Semara, are you carrying a self-help book inside your sleeves or something? Because for the love of Hesiesh every time you say one of your tired old lines I feel like I'm in therapy and want to kill myself. Kaimi, well, I don't even know where to start with you. I could mention the horrible possibilities of your genetic experiments, since it seems horrible is likely where you'll end up, or your complete and utter lack of empathy and open-mindedness regarding other people. I mean, fuck, if you could look up from your books of extremely destructive Sorcery and how to splice a simhata and a river dragon together trying to make a supernatural sea mount but actually making a creature that can't walk on land and drowns in the ocean, maybe you could learn how to acknowledge other people's problems and be a real person. Honestly I don't even know why I love you. Garret, man the fuck up you coward, aren't you a Solar? And I want my five obols back. Yeah, I know it was you. Calm, I want to support your plan to make Abyssals into their own deal separate from Deathlords and Oblivion and Solars, I do, but sometimes you seem to be just as bad if not worse than the rest."


"Oh, and Syren. Just... fuck you and your little dog too." - Jubal, in an alternate universe where he was present during the Silver Prince meeting.


"Jubal, you've shown me that my original goals of slaughtering Dragon-blooded en masse and forcefully purging the Imacculate Order entirely was....wrong, in so many ways. I still have a deep-seated hatred, but if there are more like you among those ranks, it would be a terrible waste of life to simply off every one of them. I don't know what to do because of it, but all I know is that if I can fall in love with someone that I would have been convinced a year ago deserved to die, then others should have a chance as well."


" Syren, you are everything wrong in the world, condensed into a tiny little egotistical man that I just want to knife in the face over and over again. I would never otherwise admit it, but part of this reason is because I see so much of my hatred reflected in your actions, and you aren't ashamed in the least. I haven't known you long but you are manipulative, wreched, cruel, and yet too intelligent to simply toss aside and ignore. I cannot tell if it is pure hatred for your actions, jealousy or a mix of both that drives me to want to replace every atom in your lungs with knives, so instead I wish for you to be out of my sight. Forever. Give me a reason and I will kill you, just so I can lay that part of me to rest."


~Alternate universe Kai, had they been present


"It is sometimes difficult to deal with all of you, and it isn't that you aren't capable of great good, but you are all flawed and it seems like you have no interest in becoming any better as people. Elesis you are the pinnacle of warrior as I see it, your dedication to the art of war and killing is paramount and there will be much need for your skills in the times to come. But you are also willfully ignorant, you have no tact worth speaking of, and despite your hope one day of leading your contry of Ionia you have no capacity to lead anything but soldiers. In time if you are good enough we will outlive the need for war, and it is harmful for you to think otherwise, if you never find the time to be something more than a killer then that is all you will ever be. And that is harmful to everyone. Jubal you have taken a capable risk in coming with this group, you have looked in the face of the ignorance and prejudice your culture has cultivated and spat in it as is your nature. This is admirable. And yet you are still plagued with the nature of your people, you are a rude, haughty, tactless pile of waste with no manners and no self control. Perhaps if you learned how to speak a few words without sounding like a 12 year old people wouldn't want to kill you so badly. Garret you are the greatest thief I have ever heard of, not even met, I mean even blown up fictional accounts of great thieves you occaisonally buy for a jade script are worthless by comparison to your abilities. Actually I am having trouble thinking of what I dislike about you. I guess it might be that sometimes you still come across as a small time pickpocket from Coral, but that fits you and after writing a few ficitional accounts of your abilities I have to say it is pretty charming. But I won't lie that your attitude in the wrong place can be quite jarring, and even harmful if the situation is right. Might be worthwhile to become a bit more conventionally charming."


Syren takes a drink of water, as speaking so much is harmful to the throat at times.


"Semara you are one of the most unusual characters I have ever met. You are a picture of what I would call a Priest of Sol, but in this same category sometimes the esoteric penny wisdoms your drop and the enigmatic way you react to things seems very...odd. Makes you very difficult to read, and sometimes somewhat unpleasant to converse with. You are painfully intense and always seem to be somewhere in Yu Shan mentally. Which isn't to say you don't have presence and don't occaisonally spout something that even makes me blush with shame, but it might be better if you could come down to Creation every once in a while. Kaimi you hate me. I can understand disliking me, but you legitimately hate me. I for the life of me cannot understand why, but I wish it weren't true. You are a brilliant mind, a creative mind, you have the potential to change the world and when the future comes you will be a genuine aspect of why we call it the future. But ask anyone and they will tell you that you are a thick skulled, stubborn bitch of a woman who while capable of creative new ideas are still incapable of being flexible in your opinions."


He stares at Calm for a very long time as Elly begins to fight the Prince,


"Prepare for a sad future, for the road to get all the dreams you desire is going to be hard fought and is far more likely to end up negative unless you can find some very powerful friends who can help you change the very fabric of your being, which is ultimately a darkened, shadowy abomination tied to the destruction of everything that is. But if there is anyone who has the will to do so I imagine it is you."


-Syren, had he been about.


"So, I'm willfully ignorant, am I? Understanding your limitations is one thing, I suppose. I for one, do not purport to have all the answers, nor a plan that will survive any and all eventualities like you might. Which is the real question, isn't it? Were you half the man you claim to be, Kaimi and Garret, and the rest of them wouldn't have clashed with you in the first place, no? You had the answers, right? If there's one thing I can't stand it's a man who thinks he's smarter than he is. You're not bad, no. I even like you, but you're as arrogant as I am yet refuse to admit it." -How Elesis'd have probably replied.

Glorious Roar of Vivacity – Solar host of Calm’s shard
There were no temples built in honor of Glorious Roar of Vivacity, and no records exist that speak of his accomplishments. His legacy can only be found in the Underworld, and even then only if you can discern between the inherent madness of ghosts and the madness born of fear.


A veteran of the Primordial War, the mortal who would Exalt into the Zenith Caste was originally part of the breeding pool of potential Dragon Blooded. During training, but before Exaltations began in earnest, he fell in love with a fellow soldier. When she Exalted before him and he felt inferior she consoled him and loved him back. When the devas found their barracks and overwhelmed them she protected him while he rallied their fellows to not lose faith, and after he Exalted as a messenger of Sol he made sure that she was always by his side.


After the War many wondered why the Unconquered Sun saw it necessary to mark the newly created inhabitants of the Underworld as Creatures of Darkness, especially when the far more dangerous denizens of the Wyld were left off his list. Roar did not wonder, for Sol was unquestionable and he was in love and Creation was too wonderful to think on such things. And so he was content for centuries until his beloved grew old and eventually died in his arms, wiping away one last tear from his face as she promised with her last breath to love him forever. He buried her, and spent every Calibration for a decade standing vigil over her grave.


On the eleventh Calibration the solemn silence was broken by her voice, and when he looked up he saw her as he always remembered, and as he stared agape at her she explained how her love had kept her soul from entering Lethe and how she would keep to her promise, and she opened her arms to embrace him once more.


Then Glorious Roar of Vivacity hated her exceedingly; so that the hatred with which he hated her was greater than the love with which he had loved her.


He understood in a moment the reasoning of Sol, for to be a ghost was to commit the greatest sin: ingratitude. The War that they had both fought in, the glorious High Age they were all building, to be a ghost was to look at it all and spit in the face of Creation, turning away from reincarnation and playing in shadows of memories. And in the next moment he knew what Sol needed of him: to become a holy terror to all who committed that great sin. For, by Roar’s own Exalted reasoning, if there were those that could look at the immense glory of Sol and desire anything but reincarnation for eternity then bettering Creation was meaningless, but making the prospect of ghostliness as unappealing as possible would surely wipe away any inclination to remain in the Underworld.


Of course, while his reasoning was perfectly sound to him he found that his peers were not willing to make that leap with him, and even those who had recently cracked the Onyx Circle were hesitant to assist someone who seemed so frothingly driven to such a task. If it wasn’t for his Lunar mate pointing him to the Underworld location of the lone surviving Lunar member of the Black Nadir Concordant he might have resigned himself to mere unending frustration, or at least utilized less monstrous tactics. As Fate would have it, this information enabled him to find Alabaster-and-Myrrh in her Underworld den of ash and pyreflame, and thus the overall pain of both the Underworld and Creation was to increase.


Alabaster-and-Myrrh explained that unlike the Solar members of the Neverborn divers, the two Lunars who awakened the dead Primordials had become enriched by the Void, in effect become living nephwracks. While their brethren in Creation were stymied by the Labyrinth Circle of Necromancy, the ways of Onyx had come easily to the Lunars almost immediately, beating out the Solar ‘discovery’ by a decade…at the cost of making them functional outcasts in the realm above. Shunned by the Silver Pact and their bonded mates, they only had each other and the Underworld, and it had become so much for the other Lunar that he threw himself into the abyss, taking away even the memory of his name. Alabaster-and-Myrrh could only remember him at all in the Underworld, and she was so lonely. Roar took her hand in his, and from that moment on they were inseparable.


The Lunar attempted to teach him all she knew of Necromancy, but for whatever reason he could not advance past the Iron Circle. Instead of prompting jealousy or rage, this development only served to deepen their connection, as his boundless ideas became the bedrock of her magical experimentation. When his Circle mates and friends spoke of him they would snidely blame her for bringing him down to her level, and when her former pack discussed her they concluded that the inevitable Solar madness had claimed another victim; both groups were equally right and wrong*. Apart or with any other they would have surely hit their limit sooner, but together their unique depressions became the horrid feedback loop that kept them going: his anger spurred on her ingenuity which triggered his depravity which spiked her creativity, on and on for millennia under the blank sky.


*If any ever spoke of their love, they would have been completely in the wrong. Although never verbalized as such, the Celestials saw their arrangement as more of a joint venture than a relationship, or even a partnership. Every moment they spent together was always in furtherance of a goal, and even when they slept together it was always in service of another primary motive that happened to require the act (for instance, when they mocked a bed made of still-sentient souls by drowning out the pained moans of the ghosts with their own moans of pleasure, or when they donned the skins of souls molded into the shapes of each other’s lost love and tore into one other with sorrow and lust).


At first, the spells to permanently maim and destroy ghosts was enough, but it soon became lacking, especially for Roar who could already burn away their souls and was searching for a deeper deterrent. They pushed each other to delve deep into the depths of necrotic Essence, and when their limit on power was reached they began their experiments in form. Attempts to broaden the art quickly devolved into attempts to amuse the other: He would switch the faces of two ghostly lovers and make them embrace; she would dip a ghost into the Labyrinth and only remove its insanity to let it see the aftermath of a rampage; he would remove a ghost’s arms and use them to slowly break down the rest of its body into soulsteel. When the first nascent ancestor cults began to emerge they abducted the ghosts receiving prayer, flooded their corpus with the Void, and forced them to lie with their descendants; later, while the ghost was bound and forced to watch a generation of plasmic horror-foetuses terrorize its former home and family, the Celestials sat back and cackled. The actions of the Exalted above supplied them with a steady stream of subjects, and incoming ghosts were quickly informed by their new peers of the best ways to avoid the terrors that followed silver and gold lights on the horizon. On and on for millennia.


Roar only made a concerted effort to return to Creation once a year, during Calibration. In the early years he made the effort to keep in touch with his old friends, but soon found it too tiring. They could boast about their ‘accomplishments’ in honoring the Sun seemingly forever, while he was secure in his knowledge that his path was completely according to Sol’s wishes. Forays into the Wyld and Malfeas bored him to tears. Where were the threats, what enemies that truly mattered? The raksha had escaped Sol’s unquestionable sneer and the Yozis were secure in their prison. It was the Underworld that was the true threat, ghosts who were the insidious menace, and as far as he could see Roar was the only Solar preaching the message to the Unconquered Sun’s enemies!


So it was that after a century he began to return to Creation only to visit the grave of his long dead love. Alabaster-and-Myrrh’s teachings included the methods of binding and moliating ghosts in the first lesson, and Roar had practiced on the first ghost he had ever seen. When he could do no more he sought his Lunar companion’s help in altering the ghost’s Fetters as well. The one time Alabaster-and-Myrrh became curious about his annual trip she followed him as a fly, and watched for a day as he stood at the foot of his love’s grave, staring at the ghost bound to the site. Sometimes he cried and sobbed. Sometimes her eyes would go wide as if she had something to say, but her mouth had been smoothed away by his hand long ago. Alabaster-and-Myrrh left sated, never wondering again.


Glorious Roar of Vivacity attended the Calibration Feast mostly out of surprise at the invitation, seeing as he hadn’t talked to another Exalted in Creation in centuries. When the Usurpers attacked he put up no resistance, staring off serenely while his brethren revolted. He had no reason to fight back and no fear of death. In fact, just the week before Alabaster-and-Myrrh had suggested that they tattoo into each other the magic that would ensure their souls behaved according to their intents. She would sleep while he cast the spell to ensure she rose as a spectre, and he in turn would go under while she made sure he would pass on to Lethe. (If Roar had any concerns about why she insisted they perform the spells while the other was unconscious he didn’t entertain them for long. At this point in their arrangement they tended not to question each other; doing so meant questioning the things they’d already done, and there were too many skulls accumulated to begin that now. Easier to assume good intentions.) Roar felt momentarily guilty for how, against her wishes, he had cast the spell that would lead to the Lunar passing directly to Lethe, but he consoled himself that he knew what was better for her. As the Dragon Blooded spears fell upon him he spent his last breath sighing at the recognition that he would never see her again.



Short stories of Jubal's past lives
Regret


His arms hung limply at his side, like useless lumps of Orichalcum. Weak, ragged breaths tore their way through his slightly parted lips. He could hear unintelligible sounds from somewhere nearby. Loud roars, strangled screams and metallic clangs from no source he could identify. From the corners of his eyes he could see blurred shapes and bright flashes. A contant trickle of blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, onto the jagged, bony tusk.


Flickering Starfall was, less than half a decade ago, a mere farmer plowing his family's land. He grew various vegetables and tended to cattle and if you'd asked him then what he would be doing with his life, he would never have imagined fighting in a rebellion to overthrow the Creators of Creation.


When the time of his rebirth came, it was sudden realization. One second he drew a normal breath, and the next breath was full of power, vigor and purpose. He was something else, something new. A fire burned within him that he had never felt before, filling him with energy and determination. They called it the Blessing of the Emerald Mother.


If he had known then what it would come to, he might call it a curse.


The tusk of the grotesque creature, a Behemoth they called it, had torn a hole through his crimson armor and now, technically, comprised most of Starfall's torso. His Jade Daiklave was still lodged in the creature's thick hide where he had left it. He gave it his best hit and the thing didn't even feel it. He tried to raise his arms to grab the blade, but they were too heavy and his vision was growing dark anyway. His breathing slowed as the world slowly faded into night, the darkness broken only once by a bright golden flash of something like flame, that left his vision as quickly as it had appeared.


As Flickering Starfall drew his last breath, all he could think of was that he hadn't gotten to do anything important yet.


------------------------------------------------------


Ignorance


Sitting in the sand, idly humming a calming tune, the amber-skinned young girl slowly knitted a garment with the needles in her hands, her pale blue hair flowing like waves down her face and past her waist. She deftly laced the thread together, making a vest for her one of her younger brothers with a small smile on her face, only half paying attention to the task. She had done it before enough times that she could knit in her sleep.


Tourmaline Horizon led a fairly idyllic life, gathering fruits and vegetables, tending to the house, babysitting her younger siblings and generally taking care of household matters. She had no qualms about her life, finding the peace to be relaxing and safe.


And when she needed excitement, she could just pay attention to whatever trouble her younger brothers got themselves into today.


At the moment, they were busy playing at the beach, after being warned that they shouldn't go too far or pick on their little sister that was playing with them, she had split her attention between the tune she was humming, the vest she was knitting and the eye she kept on her brothers and sister.


She was a little sad that her life would be changing soon, after her marriage to Willow. Though, earlier today he had assured her he still wanted to be involved with her family, after they stepped out of the shed. She had kissed him goodbye and straightened out her hair and skirt, so when she returned home and her mother set her to babysit her siblings, she was none the wiser.


Tourmaline Horizon never had time to realize, to stop smiling or humming, when the blast wave unleashed at the behest of a Solar Dawn burned away her body through the bone, until only ashes remained of her and her village, that were soon carried away by the uncaring breeze.


Though the collateral damage was later acknowledged by the distant and mighty Solar Deliberative, no one remembered the fair Tourmaline Horizon, or her husband-to-be Graceful Willow, or her rowdy younger brother Copper Blossom.


------------------------------------------------------


Freedom


The bronze-skinned man smirked as he felt the jaw breaking under his knuckles. He'd never liked Crow anyway, the bastard was a suck-up and a coward. Punching him out with a cestus-wielding fist was possibly the most relieving thing he'd done today.


Tsunami Wolf rose fully, looking over the battlefield to assess the situation, his sweat-matted bare chest heaving from today's exertion. Fire and explosions blazed around him as men cleaved willing slaves, brother fought brother and mobs clashed with lizards.


Hair billowing in the breeze, Wolf turned to his companions, the group of rebel slaves he trusted the most, his close friends and his lover, Granite Lightning. He gave the other man a reassuring smile as he started into his bright viridian eyes, promising with the look that tonight they would celebrate together until they couldn't stand. It was time to finish this.


The group climbed to the top of the pyramid, brimming with determination at finish this and earning their freedom. It was already happening around the world. The Chosen of the Sun, Moon and Stars had risen to overthrow the creators, and inspired the lesser men to follow their example.


At the top, Tsunami Wolf and their entourage saw the hulking, red-hued scaly mass of Dragon King Thrrorr, sneering at them with his mighty warclub slung over his shoulder.


The fight didn't last long, if it could even be called that.


Wolf's left arm was shattered, mere pieces of his cestus clinging where most of it had been destroyed. He knelt before the lizard, clutching his wounded appendage, growling up at the tyrant. Lightning's body lay beside him, the face unrecognizable as his skull had been caved in, and half of Wolf's body was now covered in his blood. "You'd best hope we don't meet in the next life, monster."


The barbaric lizard laughed; a low, grumbling growl that made the bones of lesser men shiver. "Not likely, worm. After this rebellion has been put down, the Primordials will wipe your worthless species from all existence. None will even remember your race of bottom-feeders ever blighted this land!" The dragon roared indignantly, his spit covering Wolf's bloodied face.


"Then." The rebel slave smirked back. "I'd best leave something for you to remember me by!"


People would remember. They remembered the scar left on Thrrorr's face by Tsunami Wolf, and even after his name was forgotten, they'd know a mortal was the one that wounded the tyrant. Even when Thrrorr was felled, people remembered that a mortal had once scarred a Dragon King.


Tsunami Wolf was worthy of being Chosen by the Sun on that day, at that moment. But he wasn't the only one, and there were only so many Solar Exaltations to go around. Wolf joined the ranks of those who had fallen without attaining their heroic destiny. But, in his next life, he reunited with Granite Lightning, and had another chance at a shining fate.

[Krylo]

More pad cleaning, Luthe Vehicle List




STUFF FOUND ON LUTHE WISHLIST IF YOU HAVEN'T GOTTEN STUFF YET:
(First a few things I'm gonna dictate)
Scrolls detailing the first age charms to allow dragons to learn celestial MA
Scrolls, partially destroyed, detailing the celestial dragon styles, only a few charms available from each style
---Learning from scrolls uses untrained times, but allows you to learn without a teacher.
Two Fiery Solar Cannons (I think I'll take the other as an excuse to learn archery and do Rose Red stunts after I get DKS)
Number of Warstriders
---Two Royal (I think I said none before, changed my mind), both Orichalum. One working, one non-working but not badly damaged. Working one belonged to Amyana, broken one belonged to Akardi.
---5 Orichalum Nobles working, 1 Moonsilver. A number non-working but not badly damaged of each material. (Wonder if Joren wants a giant mecha.)
---1 Orichalum Colossus (I'm imagining it's got a skull-shaped cockpit like an Atlas.)
---10 Orichalum Scout, 5 Moonsilver, and 3 working Jade with over 20 Jade versions destroyed
---Various numbers of Common in various composition, many jade ones that are destroyed, a few working (~10), a few not badly damaged but not working.
Bunch of Vehicles
---2 Orichalum Windblade Transports, and three Moonsilver in working condition
---A number of sky chariots in various states of disrepair
---Dozens of Dolphin Class Transports in working condition
---10 Swift Midday Brilliance Class-Light in working condition, dozens in various states of disrepair, many of these still sailable though with non-functioning weapon systems and/or reduced speed and manueverability.
---70 working Whirligig Transports, no weapons systems.
---1 Working Warbird, numerous in various states of disrepair.
---2 Working Glorious Dragonfly Class, 3 Damaged and inoperable.
---3 Manta Class Transports in inoperable condition
---1 Working Dawning Sun, 10 in various states of disrepair. (We have our own Iowa-class battleship? That's badass. I think you have one of the strongest navies in the world now, just because of this)
ALL VEHICLES ARE FIRST AGE AND THUS DO NOT REQUIRE MAINTENANCE (except where specific exclusions are made for certain vehicles).

[Krylo]

EXP sheet as of 03/02

Ignore the Repair Time thing, I forgot to update that and then you time skipped, anyway, and I'm too lazy to delete it from the bottom and resave.

[Krylo]

Completed Luthan Life Scenes
------
NEERAN, IANNA, AND ALL PEOPLE WHO CURRENTLY HAVE A POSITION (and maybe Garret), THE EX-COUNCILLOR'S ROOM
------


Neeran requested a meeting with all of you nearly immediately upon your return from the Penitent. As you file into the room, you see him standing in front of the holoprojector on the circular, raised platform the councilors had used before, next to a preternaturally beautiful woman whose red hair seems to evoke flames. A number of infographics are being displayed from the projector, with both Neeran and the woman looking over them.


"Yes, oh, thank you Azure, these should work wonderfully. . ." he mutters before noticing your arrival.


"Oh! You're here!" He says turning with a smile and clapping his hands in front of himself, while the woman takes a short bow and then walks around beind the large semicircular podium to sit down. She's dressed crisply in a vest and trousers, and looks quite professional as she sits next to the holoprojector.


"I believe I have some plans on how to go about opening Luthe to trade with the other Western nations, if you'll all just find someplace comfortable. . ." Neeran continues.


Terrista sits down and props her feet up, ready to fall asleep at the first sign of extensive trade lecturing. "Who's your pretty friend?"


Syren on the other hand say quaintly at the table, but was quite interested to delve into what mad scheme Neeran might have to open up proper trade. Terrista interrupted his train of thought with her question, giving her the eye of intrigue.


Crashing this exclusive meeting, Jubal leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, waiting for Neeran to explain his ideas. He only looked over the Eclipse's girlfriend once since entering; that's all he needed.


"Supreme Commander is on deck!" Sione announced as he walked in past Jubal. Really gotta get a handler for that guy...


"Oh hello firelady," says waving to the strange haired fae woman. "Don't remember you being on board. Introductions can be done later though!" He proceeded to take a andom spot in the room, waiting for Neeran's announcement.


Elesis clicked and blew her magitech bosun's whistle as Sione announced himself, in an almost comically mocking fashion, and then went back to reclining in a bored manner in the chair she'd been sitting in. She wasn't even really sure why Neeran wanted her here.


"Oh this is Ianna," Neeran said gesturing back. "Say, hello, Ianna."


Fluttering her eyelids Ianna looks over the assembled group, and then slowly lifts an arm giving a half hearted wave, before looking down at her papers.


"Um right, anyway, it seems everyone important is here. . ." Neeran centers himself in the room and clears his throat, while Ianna taps a paper, causing the holo projection to increase in size showing readouts of population and hydroponic food growth.


"Now then, I spent yesterday collecting information on what we have in surplus to begin trading, and I've found we have exactly two things: Artifacts, which, well, I don't think we should be selling, say, tactical explosives. . ." The screen behind him changes to an animation of a pair of children throwing a Sun's Fist Chakram between each other, and then blowing up quite messily. "So that leaves us with food: Currently we have a population of just over 12,000, but Luthe can house millions and feed at least a few hundred thousand, according to Azure. We should be able to grow massive food surpluses on our hydroponic farms, with enough time and labor. . ."


The screen behind him switches to showing a few charts of population, food production, current food production, etc. "Now this isn't perfect, however, it would put us in direct competition with Wavecrest, and we are no where near equipped to do so with our current abilities. However! There is one thing we have that no one else does. . ."


The screen switches one more time to a projection of a Whirligig Transport. "These will allow us to transport goods much faster than any other merchant force, allowing us to work as a 'delivery service'. This isn't going to be enough for the long term, but it IS why I called you all here."


The animation changes to a whirligig spinning around on the surface with Luthe below it. A little question mark appears above the whirligig. "We'll need a few things to do this--the first is that we'll need times when we're not submerged that are known by our trade crews so they can return for repairs, and to offload whatever money and goods we acquire. I suggest we select a day every week, perhaps one that moves by some mathematical calculation from week to week, during which we stay above water at least twelve hours and in a predetermined meeting place."


He then stops for a moment to see if anyone has any suggestions, questons, or issues.


"I'll confess that busniess and law aren't my strong suits in any particular way. It sounds like a decent way to atleast get on our feet and make a presence though. How many people do we have who can give piloting the whirligigs and other transports a shot?" Sione aksed.


"Right now?" Neeran responds to Sione, "You, and whatever dragons and exalts know how to sail. To get this off the ground we're going to need to awaken the essence of more members of the population. . . I was going to talk to Syren about that later."


Suddenly more interested when talk turns to HER fleet, Terrista decides to put her two cents in. "The whirlgigs'll be faster than anything else on the water, but we still gotta be protectin our own shippin routes. 'Specially once Peleps gets around to noticin anathema settin up doin trade in funny boats. We gotta commit a bit more'n just the whirlgigs to it is all. 'Course... hey Azure; can you keep in touch with all of'em at once if they're far off?"


Azure's voice comes from the holoprojector. "Most first age ships, including those within Luthe, are capable of two way communication, Admiral!"


"Thanks, Azure. Well, Vermillion gets around a hundred miles an hour, and if me an' her an' maybe El show up every so often, the pirates'll leave us alone at least. Not too sure about the navy, but as long as Vermillion's around, we can get anywhere pretty quick."


Syren taps the table nodding faintly, "In all honesty even our seaborne craft will be hard pressed to be stopped by anything other than the Peleps military. Their mounted weapons, even flametongues, are hardly threatening to our metal craft. And while dragonblooded can likely win out in boarding actions, almost all of our crewmen are beastmen with the ability to breathe underwater and have been trained by Elly to kill." He finished stating what he figured was the obvious and steeples up his fingers, "Azure send out a message to expand Luthan Academy's Enlightenment 101 class as mandatory to all sailing personnel. I'll step up current bureaucratic measures in our agricultural department. If you haven't already that is."


(altitude... aren't whirlgigs boats? My bad if they aren't No you're right, I got confused by the slangish term for helicopter.)


"Lintha've got a few whirlgigs out there too. Ain't as many, but they're around. We don't need wind, but we still wanna follow shipping lanes on account o'heelin...." seeing only a couple of the assembled individuals nod in recognition, Terrista gives a short explanation of how the wind works (wind makes waves, waves move boat). "We're a bit freer, but it still ain't gonna be too tough to predict where our ships'll be."


"Even unescorted, Whirligigs have ramjet drives that exceed the realm navy's most agile vessels for speed, particularly into the wind, and in exceptionally shallow conditions. Given that, and how well our crews are trained, they would be quite difficult to capture or destroy. Still, the dragonblooded might have charms to get around that somehow, but it would require equal parts luck and skill on their end." Elesis points out, "Hilariously, I think a skilled captain could circle a military trireme at fifty yards, using the haze field to protect the crew from arrows while they engaged with shock pikes, failing that they could simply intentionally collide with the pursuing vessel. Convoy tactics could be employed to group ships in fleets of 3, with one of them converted to a Q-ship with cargo space given over to carrying marines for counter-boarding operations. ... And you know, kids can't use those chakrams. They require essence to arm."


"Are you saying it's okay if we sell them, then?" Neeran asked Elesis with a smirk, knowing full well the answer would be no. Clearing his throat, he continued, "Regardless, I called you all here mostly to get permission to keep Luthe capable of receiving incoming ships, and to use the navy's whirligigs in trade. . . Syren and I, of course, have more to discuss but, I don't need the military and security here for that."


"Anything that'll piss off Peleps and take silver away from the guild is good by me"


"Of course not. But yeah, I guess we can use our ships to do ship-things."

------
ELLY AND NARISA (perhaps guest starring others! It's a public place!), TRAINING GROUNDS
------


The soldiers train, moving through their Katas. Kalim is among them, and Sakuya is standing near, ensuring they do not slack on their movements. Elesis leads the class, but for the moment they require no direction. Indeed, they've become a fine fighting force, and would likely be capable of following their training regimine without any order from her.


Narisa sits by the wall, she switches between reading, and, when she doesn't think it's entirely obvious, watching Kalim sweat.


Seeing it unlikely that she would be ambushed upon her own battlestation in the company of her own, self-trained class of elite soldiers, Elesis wears a more casual outfit, a black yukata and accompanying hakama, enjoying the momentary freedom of not wearing heavy orichalcum armor. Still, she looks as vigilant as ever. Taking a moment aside from her instruction while the class performs a kata for the third time, she approaches Narisa and stands at her side casually, finding a time to engage in idle conversation.


"Keeping well, Narisa? Seeing you more and more down here recently.'


Narisa looks up with a bit of a start as Elesis stands over her. "Uh, oh n-I mean y-yes. I'm doing fine. I just. . . like to watch every once in a while." A slight warmth flows to her cheeks, and Elesis detects just a slight reddening.


"You don't need to be embarrassed. I've noticed you and Kalim are fairly close." Elesis chuckles, "I've got a good eye for this sort of thing, you know. Which brings me to what I wanted to ask you. Sakuya and I both believe he's ready for the job of ground forces command, and more than a match for anything our enemy might deploy in kind, but I'm still worried about him. I imagine you are too, which is why I'd like you to consider offering to be his formation's sorceress. Realm combat tactics mandate legions should be accompanied by a sorcerer and I wouldn't want to see us outdone on that angle. Still, I won't ask you to do anything you don't want to, but consider it, alright?"


"Oh Kalim and I are j--" Narisa starts over Elly's chuckle, blushing deeper, but she silences herself as Elesis continues talking about Kalim's new job and requesting her to be his sorceress. "Um. . . o-okay. I, guess, I mean. . . If it's okay with Kalim, I-I could maybe do that. . ." she responds after a moment, stumbling over her words.


"Oh, I haven't asked him yet. I think you should be the one to do that, actually." Elesis continued, smiling wryly at Narisa's obvious embarrassment, sliding down to sit next to her, she puts a hand on her shoulder, "Chin up, Narisa. He's a good man, and you could learn a lot from him. Don't let that opportunity go to waste."


"D-do you think he could really use me? I'm not very good. . ." She trails off as she looks down at her book, "I don't know if I could keep up. . ."


"Well, Kalim isn't a sorcerer, and he has a lot on his shoulders herding around several hundred mortals, I doubt you could possibly make anything worse." Elesis laughed conversationally, "But seriously, if nothing else it gives you both another way to contact us in the event something happens. That, and I think you should get out more."


"W-well, okay, if. . . if you think so. . . I'll, um, I'll ask him when he's done training today. . ." the girl was bright red about the cheeks. Hopefully she'd have the courage to actually ask.

------
TERRISTA AND ELLY
------


After a particularly intense workout/probable-assassination-attempt with Jinira, Terrista catches up with Elesis outside one of Luthe's training rooms. "Hey El," she calls out, "got time for a walk?"


"Sure, what's up, Terrista?" Elly asks, having just finished her conversation with Narisa.


"Found a deck that don't get too much use up here," Terrista says, leading Elly down the cooridors, and making a bit of small talk about old fights along the way. "... I was about your age then, long time before me second breath, so I got me knees down on the little hornswaggler's arms, and I was ready to beat his face in when he starts whimperin! So what could I do? I let him up, got me silver back, and he even bought me a drink. Well, a couple rounds of arrack later and he was startin to look pretty good. Little while later, I had a baby girl on me hands! It's a good thing his family was pretty well off; can't exactly take a baby on account." They reach a doorway that opens to a small outside deck overlooking the sea. Terrista leans out over the rail and watches the waves.


"I ain't been here long, but I been watchin, an' I see when they get talkin about the big plans, lotta times they start talkin like you're outta the room. They don't mean no harm by it, they just think they got a broader view. Truth is, they got just as many blind spots; they'll never see when our way's better 'til they've cocked it up everywhere else, and that's why we gotta step up too, so I wanna know what you're thinkin about all these plans?"


Elesis glances over the railing and watches too, less talkative than Terrista out of a bit of awkwardness with the line of her conversation, but when she asks this question, her friendly demeanor turns to a thousand yard stare.


"Well, this is an uncomfortable topic." Elesis starts, then sighs, "You're right, I suppose. I'm not really from the same background as the others, I guess. I know what I want, how to get it, and very little qualms on the go-between. It's how a soldier thinks, or rather not, how a hero thinks, when he or she is not being the golden champion everyone fawns over." Looking over to Terrista with a wry smile, she says, "You know when we first met, I learned some abyssals had captured a child and a mortal among their families, and my plan was a straightforward and effective one. Find them, kill them, get the hostages back, and not a soul had an objection with the results." She looks back out over the sea, grimly, and pauses for a moment.


"This is how things go. You can be idealist if you wish, but any country or organization or terrorist group who lacks the military power for such direct action will, ultimately, be subject to the demands of other, more powerful groups. It's easy to condone against undead, but my penchant for bringing ultimatums into diplomacy does not sit well with the others, effective though they may be. I know how to get what I want, though. My homeland was under the heel of House Tepet and, as their scion, I wished to free them. Semara, the others, wouldn't have it on the grounds that they'd lose the income from the satrapy. So I, well... So I told her that if she didn't do something, I'd wipe out the remains of their house."


She pauses for a few seconds again. "A few days later everything was back the way it should've been. I suppose I should be proud of that, but I can't be. Something about this has rubbed off on me to the point where I am very weary and loathe to make such decisions for fear of the consequences. I wait for things to break down and then salvage them, and I suppose I do get the benefit of saying that I told them so."


Terrista listens to the explanation intently, nodding here and again. She actually seems to slow down and consider what's been said for once before responding in oddly articulate fashion, "so, what troubles you more; who you almost killed, or that you got your way?" The sobriety passes, and her characteristic roughness kicks back in; "coin and talk, they'll kill just as sure as blades, but the ones usin'em don't always gotta look right at the blood, so it's easier for'em to think their way's cleaner... legitimate. Sounds like we both know that ain't true. Change don't happen without death'n loss, so what matters is sufferin. I guess the slow way is probably right sometimes, but then sometimes it just means more gotta suffer while everyone pretends it's all workin out. You don't gotta use threats all the time, but you don't gotta let'em put you at the kid's table either, and sometimes y'just gotta go do what you know is right."


"It's kinda like... you know how when you cut somethin just right, it barely moves an inch? It's the same with these plans and big problems, but if you keep thinkin about what might happen, it's the same as overthinkin your fightin. Idle thoughts just get the better o'ya."


"I lost my mother and father to politics, and beyond that, we lost our family's honor. I suppose you're right, but it still bothers me." Elesis shrugs, "Sometimes I can get carried away in battle, and then lose my train of thought when snapped back to thinking too much. You know we never actually killed anyone at Silver Prince's manse. I had that crazy archer at my mercy but Sem stopped me. Not really sure why. I've no love for abyssals and neither does she." Elesis makes a long 'hrm' as she thinks on Terrista's earlier question, "Here and now? Personally, I don't think the dragonblooded can do it, or should do it. The best and most straightforward plan is to roll into the Imperial City, take the defense grid and declare the return of the solar deliberative. We don't want to, nor need to use that weapon, but regardless there will be significant bloodshed. I'm content to let them try something else to wash my hands of that. Immaculate doctrine is too widespread and deeply rooted to remove easily and there will be problems no matter what method we use."


"Hah! Aye, I'd just as soon break down the the door to the manse meself. Or scrap the whole thing, get the Lap workin and take over the south along with the sea. Don't know that I'd much care for another solar deliberative though. Got a feelin we'll end up cuttin more'n a couple solars down in all this" She pauses, considering her next words, and with a long sigh, continues, "I don't mind usin the draggies so much if it'll make changin the immaculates easier; say what you want, but they're good at trackin, and they're ready to find exalts. Tepet though... I don't think that Roseblack's got it in her to hold the Realm together through what we wanna do. If we're gonna prop them up, we might as well just go take over by force."


"Sorry 'bout your mom and dad; didn't know about that. Can't imagine why everyone else'd stop you from killin the prince. Deathlords... ech, I don't really know the nature of'em too well, bein honest. Death shouldn't be like that, just hangin about forever, stuck and stagnatin."


"Well, we can't really tear it down, it sits on the biggest demense in creation, and the effects of altering the geomancy of the Imperial Manse would, well, I don't know much about geomancy, but it's pretty much the textbook definition of doomsday scenario in the 'how can manses be dangerous' area. But you're right, we're most certainly going to kill other solars too, and lunars, and dragonblooded, and probably sidereals, and I'm okay with that. Frankly, I don't very much give a damn about exalted in general, so much as I do keeping my people from harm. Or at least, well, mostly that."


"Ionia, right? Fair enough, though if things go south with Tepet, I'd be worried about it gettin back to their satrapies." There's another long silence, and then "well you're alright. I ain't got nothin else to say if you don't. Long as you're not just lettin'em tell you what to do. You gotta cross the Rubicon sooner or later though."


"No, I think I'm done." Elly shrugs, "It'll come up when it does."

[Krylo]

Another Luthan Life (Nalera)
------
TERRISTA AND NALERA (And anyone else who wants to come with if Bit's okay with it/Terrista would have brought you), THE SUNKEN MANSE
------


Terrista arrives at the manse on the scheduled day, and immediately as she gets a few halls away from her dolphin, the entire structure begins to quake!


"Whoa there!" Terrista looks around the room to make sure it isn't about to collapse inward on her.


The manse continues quaking, but everything seems stable. However the sound of rushing water reaches Terrista's ears, and soon the water is draining out of the hall she stands in. Soon everything is damp, but above water.


Terrista shakes the water out of her hair, leaving everything around her a bit more damp. "Fancy manse. Wish I'd found it first."


A moment passes in silence and then Terrista feels a breath on the nape of her neck. "Boo." (Nalera's voice in narration: "and that was the first time I died.")


A shock runs through Terrista's body as she forcibly ratchets her surprise-reflex down from blow-up-the-manse-PD-resume-combat-on-equal-footing, clear through, roll-forward-and-drive-heel-into-attacker's-groin, and all the way down to spin-around-and-exclaim "SHIVER ME- Sol damn- son of a BITCH, girl! You near made me blow the manse!... Not too friggin bad!" She laughs and looks over her non-assailant.


Nalera lets out a laugh as she steps back from Terrista, giving each other a clear view for the first time in years.


The pirate girl is still a bit short, and pretty. And dry. In fact, she hasn't really changed at all since the last Terrista had seen her, other than the orichalum wave cleaver at her side, and the knives and flame pieces that lined the inside of her justacorp. She gave the older pirate a toothy grin.


"Haven't seen you since Azure. . . what was it? 2-3 years ago? I was just a kid back then. What brings you to my humble abode?"


She then glances about the hall, still wet from its recent submersion, "And how in the world did you find it?"


Syren's cloak whirls into thin air as he apperates beside the pair, "Knowledge is a powerful thing. But you seem to be aware of that. With the right map, you can find anything."


At that point Jubal appeared in the hall, having separated from Terrista on arriving and being drawn by the voices. "Oh hey. Nalera, is it? I'm Jubal, and that's Syren." He introduced himself, eyeing the knives and flamepieces on the pirate's waist. "I hope you're not thinking of doing the Dawn thing. We didn't really come here to rough you up."


"C'mere, you," she gives the girl an uncomfortably tight hug. "Aye, it's been awhile. But you look good for it, kid! Looks like you come a long way from stowin away on boats. You'll like how I found ya; you ever heard o'the sunken city?"


Nalera snickers at Jubal. "Dawn-thing? Don't worry, if I meant to rough you up, you'd have never seen me," she said swith a cocky grin right before Terrista grabbed her.


"Ugh! Leggo," she mutters as she squirms out of the hug. "Your grip's tighter than ever," the pirate girl mutters as she straightens out her coat and adjusts her hat. "Which sunken city? There's like, I dunno, more of 'em than I can count."


Jubal cocked an eyebrow. "Good to know." Then, he responded to her question about the sunken city. "She means Luthe. You know, old First Age joint. Used to be run by Leviathan. As for how we found your manse, we have a map of the dragon lines in Creation."


Terrista laughs and claps the smaller girl on the back. "Big first age one that ain't sunk anymore. Lots'a fancy boats. What're you sailin these days anyway?"


"Me?" Nalera asks, "Just a little sail dinghy I had custom made. Something I could operate alone. . . crew just slows me down, yanno?" She then glances back toward the entrance, "What's this I hear about lotsa fancy boats back at your place, though?"


"Oh, quite a few; magic ones too. I'll take you back and you can see'em yourself, but you gotta show me yours first." She looks around suddenly, only just now appearing to notice the other two. "Oh, and these be me mates; Syren and Jubal. Solar and a draggy. Thinkin about it, I guess I didn't ask what you're doin with a manse anyhow; you exalt or what?"


"Exalt? Me?" Nalera asks as she strides past toward the entrance to the manse, waving a hand to follow. "Now whatever would give you that idea?" As she finishes this sentence she turns back, a hollow golden ring glowing brightly on her forehead.


Syren whispers into Terrista's ear, "That's a pound of silver, she was too sneaky not to be a Night."


Reaching the entry dock, the water level is quite low, and some stairs lead down the 'dock' to allow easy access to the submarines, but also to a door leading outside. She exits and reveals a small ship, a dinghy really, with a mast and single sail. As far as size--and probably ability--it's not that impressive, but the figurehead on the prow is an incredibly lifelike, if slightly idealized, carving of Nalera herself. Her arms reach back across the front of the ship to the deck's railings, which are each coming from a flame piece in each of the figurehead's hands, and are stylized as columbs of flame.


"Ain't much, but she's mine."


Syren stares at the figurehead, examining it closely slowly spreading smirk coming across his face, "Ignoring our artifacts I cannot imagine a better craft for a Night caste sea ambusher. Small, barely notable, speedy and ready to carry a payload full of fire, death, and fear."


"Yes, very humble." Jubal chuckled. "Sorry about before, I saw how armed you are and made an assumption. I'm a Wood Aspect, in case you didn't notice."


Terrista walks around the boat, looking it over. "You got pretty good if you can handle'er this far out in the ocean..." She gives a sharp laugh as she reaches the figurehead. "If they ain't gonna see you in a fight, at least they see you somewhere."


"I'll bet you are," Nalera responded to Jubal with a wink, before turning back to her ship, with a chuckle. "Yeah, I think I may have scared the shipwright a bit. Free of charge, don't usually take her out too far, though. I can swim faster than any boat can sail, jus' didn't wanna be all wet for my guests."


"Hah!" Terrista laughs, "she's got you pegged, Jubal. Well, we got a ship back at the entrance to take us back to me own vessel. Gonna come along?"


"Can't turn down a chance to see these fancy ships of yours, I guess," Nalera said with a grin. "I'll have to take the lady, though," She continues, thrusting a thumb at her own boat. "She's not sturdy enough to sit in the middle of the ocean alone, and I don't wanna leave the manse visible while we're away."


"Hmm..." Terrista looks the boat over again, holding her hands apart as if trying to do some spacial calculations. "Miiiight fit inside Vermillion..." (Vermillion's cargo bay can fit a couple warstriders, so if it's just like, personal sailboat size, we can probably stick it in with the dolphin).


"Well, if you got a way, I've got a will," Nalera replies. "Let's get goin'."

Sione and Narisa


-------
SIONE AND NARISA, NARISA'S ROOM
-------
Narisa's door looms coldly infront of the Supreme Commander of Luthe. Has he the nerve to face the enigmatic dragonblooded sorceress, or has he come this far only to turn back now?


"Meow!"


"Chance hush! I'm just... thinking of what I'm going to say... is all." Sione was hesitant to admit that, while he was basically comfortable around the Solars (and Jubal) by this point, he was less certain around these new Terrestials. The bald girl looked like she was going to punch when he spoke out! What if the sorcerer was also crazy like her?


Swallowing his concern, he took a broad step forward, and knocked on the door.


'Just remember Sione, you're the commander of this boat. No fist can shake your supremity!'


After a moment the door slides to the side with the mechanical swish Sione has, probably, gotten used to hearing, and Narisa's room is revealed.


It. . . it's a mess. A glorious, glorious mess.


Maps of essence lines are pasted up on the wall, along with diagrams depicting sorcerous rituals and mechanical intricacies, most half finished. Sione can understand the latter, some things for essence focusing, schematics from Luthe, a few diagrams depicting the interiors of warstriders and first age engines. A bed to the side is likewise covered in parchments and books. . .


Across the room from him, Narisa is closing up a couple of books. "Oh um. . . excuse the mess, Supreme Commander? Did--did you need something from me?"


'Oh no! She's nervous, assure her you're friendly!'


"IT IS OKAY YOU MAY CALL ME SIONE!" He shouted.


Chance swatted his leg.


"Uh. Uh. Uh. I mean... you can just call me Sione... yeah."


"Sorry for yelling."


"Yeah."


"Uh, I wanted to ask you about sorcery. You, seem to know a lot about it," he motioned towards the rituals and stuff. "Could you, teach me some sorcery? Like, how to do it?"


Narisa blinked rapidly and cowered back in her chair at the shouting, and strainge. . . mannerisms of their Supreme Commander. Was this really the person they put in charge?


Regardless, she let out a slow calming breath as Sione apologized, however, her eyes went wide at his question. "M-me? Are. . . are you sure you want to learn from me?"


Sione's eyes once again scan over the sorcerous diagrams on the walls, as well as the Essence Maps and the mechanical designs. After giving them a good look he returns his eyes to Narisa.


"Uh, yeah, you seem qualified. So long as you're willing to that is. I can understand if you're maybe busy."


She looks over the diagrams. Could he read those? God they were so embarassing. Half-finished designs, and possible repair notes, all scribbled together haphazardly. She then glances back at him and shakes her head with a slight blush. "Um n-no, it's fine! I, um, I can probably make some time, though Kalim and I are supposed to set out soon, and um. . . maybe we could work on figuring out your trials and you can do those while I'm gone?" she offers.


"Oh yes! Any help you could offer is great. Just, some help in getting started is good, once I feel I got a handle on it I can take a swing on my own I think. I'd really be greatfule for any sort of assistance."




Narisa tapped a finger over her lips and took a moment to think as Sione agreed. Tutelage was taken care of, probably. Maybe. Well if she didn't count maybe she could find him someone else. Regardless that left four other trials.


Humility--he would need to be humiliated and humbled, Journey--he would need to go and see someplace very different than wavecrest or Luthe, Fear--he needs to face his fear, and Sacrifice--he would need to sacrifice something important.


But what was important to him, and what did he fear? Narisa didn't know, but, she decided, that could come later. For now, Humility and Journey.


"Okay, while I'm gone, Sione, I want you to do two things for me--the first is to travel to the isle with the rest of the officers, and the second. . . first I need to ask what you take pride in."


"What I take pride in?..." Sione pauses a moment, his eyes turning to the ceiling. "Uh, well, I guess what I value most is just knowing a lot of things! Scholarly stuff is what I'm best at, and I just take pride in having knowledge."


"Hmm," The dragonblood sorceress replies, tapping a finger over her lips a few more times before responding. "I believe I have an idea, but it will take some time--so it will have to wait until after the isle as well! Just make sure you see as much as possible, okay? The journey is important."

Terrista Learns Game Theory
--------
TERRISTA AND WHOEVER ELSE WANTS: READING RAINBOW 2: ENTER THE FIST
--------


Some time in a not-too-distant possible future, Terrista, inimitable scarlet fist, would-be fist queen of the Realm, dawn caste of the solar exalted sits at a table in one of Luthe's communal dining areas surrounded by books in various states of disrepair; titles range from "Das Gossamer," to "Managing the Modern RPC," to "Wyldship Troopers in the 41st Deliberative Millenium," (the cover of which depicts a number of large men in terrestrial battle armour fighting an insectile behemoth with chainsaw daiklaves), with a much smaller book titled "The Little Red Empress" embedded three inches into a nearby wall. Currently she is channeling the entirety of her valour to turn just one more page of "Theory of Games and Economic Behaviour." Everyone seems to be giving her a very wide berth; in one corner, an octopus man is consoling a shark man who exhibits signs of post traumatic stress disorder.


"Azure... you still there? Okay...why don't the prisoners try to escape?"


*fwish*


Sione's footsteps tap on into the room as the startrek doors part for him. He pauses momentarily as he sees the odd state of the room, with the traumatized beatman in the corner and a book sticking out from the wall. His eyes widen slightly and an eyebrow is raised.


"Uh, hey Terrista," he says cautiously. "What's the problem... do you... not know how to read?"


Passing by Terrista's table with a food-laden tray, Jubal overheard her question for Azure, raising an eyebrow. "The Prisoner's Dilemma, huh?" He said curiously, turning to the pirate. "Yeah, I hated that part."


Terrista looks up at Sione very slowly, the force of her anima creating a visible depression in the floor. "You think I just walked onto Vermillion and punched controls until she started up!?"


Vermillion's voice blips over the comm, "that's not actually very far-"


"SHUT UP!"


She notices Jubal and, dangerously irritated, responds "It's stupid! Even if one's a coward, the other one's mates'll hang'im up by his toes!"


"Maybe a little?" He responded meekly as he took a few small steps backwards.


Jubal chuckled. "Yes it is. Anyway, they're not in an actual prison, you know. I mean, they could be, but not necessarily. The dilemma is more metaphorical than that. Also, if escape is an option then obviously they should take it, but then it's not really a Prisoner's Dilemma."


"Can I ask why the sudden interest in economics?"


Terrista's body engages its natural response to gibberish, and it is only with great effort that she unclenches her fist. Sione would be vaporized in the shockwave, she tells herself. "If it ain't a real prison, then who. Are. The prisoners? How does anyone learn anything from all this shit? Flyin manuals're easy; just tell you exactly what's what. Ain't no 'combat suite dilemma.'"


"The prisoners are metaphorical, too." Jubal replied, grinning. "And yeah, economics are crazy. I dunno if I can come up with an example..." He said, looking thoughtful.


"Actually," Azure pipes in, cheerily, and then Sione begins to speak.


Sione flinches a bit, but lets out a sigh of relief when he realizes he didn't die. "...Maybe I can help?"


He walks up a bit closer to the two. "Lets, say, hypothetically, we both have guns-" he pauses and reaches into his coat - "actually I do have a gun." He pulls out his plasma tongue repeater. "But lets say, hypothetically, you also had a gun. And that if I shot you, you'd be hurt just as much as I would. So, we're both shouting, 'put the gun down', but neither of us are going to, because we don't want the other to have an advantage. So, even though the smart thing to do would be to put the guns away and talk shit out, neither of us will because we don't trust a stranger to not screw us over should we offer a potential advantage. ...does that help?"


"Master Sione, has spelled out the combat suite dilemma! If you both put the guns down, neither gets hurt, and it is the best outcome! But it is dangerous to trust the other to disarm as well!"


"And no, you can't dodge or block the shot, or knock the gun out of the other guy's hand before he shoots you." Jubal interjected deadpanly.


"Okay, see now that makes sense, but what's it gotta do with money?"


"I dunno," the alchemist shrugs his arms, gun still in hand. "Maybe there's, like, a big sack of money between the two?" ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J0BrdMi-oyc )


Syren kicks down the door to Rock You Like a Hurricane, looking somewhat indignant about the trio and their discussion, "You are all terrible." He lifted his hand, "Azure load Game Theory lecture notes." A collection of graphs appear behind Syren animated by the AI, dominated by 5 distinct bullet points, at the time empty and he coughs faintly, "Game Theory is not solely about economics. It is about decision making, and strategy. It is the use of logical models in order to understand what course of action you should make, reducing the world down to basic games. It can be used in psychology, sociology, war, economics, politics and even science; and to know just one game, like the one that Sione gave(the Game of Chicken as it was named) is not enough. There are multiple models and games that can be learned and by knowing them and studying the mindsets of other players you can inevitably lead yourself to an informed decision."


A model of the Prisoner's Dilemma appears behind him, "The Prisoner's Dilemma, as you saw it is in fact just as flawed when taken on its own..." He stops suddenly, "I am starting to go out of control. Further lessons on GAMES and WINNING will be done in the ampitheatre at 1300!" He stood for a moment, "Unless you would like to run a Q&A..."


"Aaaaaand I'm out of here." Jubal mumbled, exiting stage left.


"Yeah I'm lost too, I'm going to go shoot things. C'ya," Sione said in response to the political mumbo-jumbo as he left the room.


"By the way Sione... you should really stop carrying that gun around. You're going to shoot yourself in the foot." Jubal said to the mortal as they left together.


"I gotta learn more than one o'these things?" Terrista says with an exasperated sigh, and considers just beating her head against the wall for awhile, but reasons that the wall would break before it had any noticeable effect. ". . . .fine. 1300 hours, but so help me if this shit doesn't make sense when we're done..."


Syren crosses his arms grinning, "If nothing else I am a gifted teacher." He nodded his head before pulling his cloak up, teleporting from the room.

--------

[Krylo]

Terrista and Garret


------
GARRET AND TERRISTA, VERMILLION HAMMER
------


A shadow sweeps across the deck of Luthe, passing silently and unnoticed by any as it approaches the Vermillion Hammer. Within, Terrista rests, unsuspecting.


BUT EVER READY TO ACT! DEEP IN A MEDITATIVE TRANCE, TERRISTA IS AWARE OF HER SURROUNDINGS FOR MILES. NOT A SINGLE MOTE OF DUST ESCAPES HER NOTICE! NOTHING-


"Snore"


*Foom* A loud shockwave washes over the deck as a spout of water erupts out in the ocean, the result of a supersonic force smashing into the waves. Embarrassed, Garret returned Redemption to it's spot on his back and rubed the back of his neck. "Ok, put to much into that. Really have to remember to hold back for... mortal stuff."


Without a job, the Solar thief had found himself turning to hobbies to occupy his time. The latest was fishing.


Turned out you could catch a lot of fish with a Soulsteel bow.


Well, he decided as he returned to his course towards Vermillion, he'd go collect later. He'd had a few questions to ask Terrista for a while, so since he was in the area...


He hopped up onto the ships deck. "Hey, anyone up around here?"


A terrible rumbling emanates from deep within Vermillion. "Good morning, Garret," Vermillion's disembodied voice says. "Terrista will be up in just a moment." This is followed by a loud crash and some distant sounds of shouting, and then silence. A few minutes later, Terrista emerges from below decks, blinking spots from her eyes.


"Mornin. What's goin on?"


"Yo," Garret greeted her with a lazy salute, having taken a perch on the side of the ship, dangling his legs over the edge. "Nothing much. Was in the area, was bored. Figured I'd say hi. Wanna talk?"


She shrugs and walks over to sit next to him. "Sure. 'Bout what?"


"Eh, we just haven't had much of a chance to get to know one another yet. I've been traveling with the others for years, so I know them pretty well, but you.. You're new, so I figured I should get to know you properly, y'know?" He shrugged, "Or something. So, call me curious. When'd you Exalt? That's usually an interesting story."


"Oh, that's more a story o'political coincidence. See, Peleps takes Guild bribes, but that don't mean everyone in Peleps is friends with the guild. I'd got meself pretty well known for hittin their ships, and I scored some fancy note off Peleps that said I was above the law at sea. Well, turns out dependin on how much money they get paid, they don't always honour those. So a few bribes later, and I found meself facin down a couple'a draggies on navy ships. They cornered us, boarded, and killed most o'me crew, and they were comin over to pick me up so they could gimme the hemp later." She makes a motion behind her head like someone pulling on a noose. "Whole thing just pissed me off; me crew was dead, Peleps were cowards, and the Guild was gettin whatever they wanted for a bit o'coin, and I couldn't do nothin about it. Everyone else always says the sun talked to'em, or they remembered somethin, but I didn't get none o'that. I was gonna fight to the end; kept movin, didn't stop throwin punches. I'd been there before, but not against draggies. I don't know exactly when the I took the breath, but it was somewhere in all that. Didn't notice 'til there was no one left to hit."


"Impressive. Yeah, I can see that." Garret glanced over to her. "Y'know, the only Solar I've met who's really mentioned what the Sun said to them was Semara... And reall,y 'Endure' is a pretty debatable message to get. Not sure how I'd take that one. But, I didn't get anything from him either, just a bright circle glowing on my forehead. Just as I was making my perfect get away, too, all kinds of awkward. So I guess we have that in common. Did you get much of your last life? Adjusting to Silent's memories was... weird."


His gaze drew distant for a moment, before he shook his head and grinned. "Eh, not important, really. So what'd you decide to do with your Exaltation? Still after the guild?"


"Never got any memories. For all I know, I don't got a 'last life.'" She looks over at the night caste. "Do with it? I didn't get me spirit from exaltin; me own plans ain't changed much. Travelin around, I seen Immaculates tellin people they can't do anything, nobles hoardin coin so no one else gets it, military keepin people from so much as holdin steel in their own defense; they use fear and power to keep everyone else down, all outta fear of lettin anyone else have just the tiniest bit o'power to challenge them. If someone's gonna cut down their enemies, I ain't real bothered, but holdin down the whole world just so you don't gotta face anyone? That's cowards, and I'll bring them down meself." She holds a rather intense stare for a moment before relaxing. "How 'bout you? What's Garret's dream?"


"So yeah, same as ever then? Hm, interesting." He tilted his head back for a moment before considering her question. "My dream?" He shrugs a little. "I want to fix the world up so it's not a hell hole to live in. Maybe not make a new first age, that... That didn't go so well, but something better for the people, definitely. Used to be I just wanted to be the best thief in Coral - Then the world, until I landed up with the others dealing with the deathlord's plague. Turns out traveling the world and seeing how close to disaster it is can change your perspective a little. Who'da thought it?" He chuckled a little, shaking his head. "Yeah, I just want to set the world up so it works, and then I can fuck off and do my own thing. I don't have any interest in being a god king or whatever. Talk to Elly about that stuff."


"So where'd you find Vermillion, anyway?" he asked, switching the subject.


She raises an eyebrow at the night. "All this talkin's got me parched; you bring something to drink?"


"'Fraid not. Doesn't vemillion keep a stocked cabinet? Surely that's the pirate way?"


"You want me stories and you didn't even bring a drink?" She asks, with (mostly) mock offense. "We're gonna have to learn you some manners. There's a code, you know."


A sharkman arrives carrying a bottle of dark rum on a silver platter, with a few limes, sugar cubes, nutmeg and glasses, "From Lord Huang, on the order of 'any time the Admiral desires a drink.'"


"Now there's a man who knows how to treat his friends." She grabs the bottle and takes a swig before passing it to Garret. Exhaling sharply, she slaps the shark man on his shoulder; "thanks, matey. Alright, well... hey, Vermillion, you here?"


"I'm always here, Captain. You know this."


"Yeah yeah, ya bloody skyboat. You know the first part better'n I do, so you tell it," she says, seemingly unaware that Vermillion still calls her captain. She takes one of the lime slices and hands it to a large, colourful parrot that had emerged from below decks when the drink arrived, and promptly settled in on her shoulder.


"Aye, Captain. In Deliberative year 3706, this vessel's previous captain, Red Comet, sojourned into the wyld. One week after departure, his crew unexpectedly staged a coordinated mutiny..." Vermillion trails off, her voice losing none of its composure; she simply pauses a moment. "...Red Comet successfully slew the mutineers; all of his terrestrial retainers as well as my-the crew. However, a sidereal assassin had hidden himself aboard the vessel and surprised the captain when his essence had been depleted... My captain died, and the assassin left me bereft in the wyld. I am not capable of navigating wyld waypoints without a navigator, so there I remained. Some time later, the hearthstone which powered me shattered, and I shut down. I awo- this vessel was discovered by the Abyssal known as Dancer in the Mad Forest in Realm year 764."


"Damn, Vermillion, just tell the story like you mean it!"


"Noted. That... thing fed me with a death aspected hearthstone." Her tone grows venomous. "It was disgusting, sickness. I didn't know what it was or what he was, but he was attuned, and his caste mark registered as solar, so there was nothing I could do about his insanity."


"Aye, but you were smart about it. Vermillion tricked the little rat," Terrista adds.


"If he knew I was here, Dancer would have found some way to twist and bind me. I... hid, and waited, and let him deface my hull with skins and bones from the people he used me to massacre."


"You might still be with him if you hadn't. It were the right thing to do, Vermillion." By now the parrot has finished making a mess of its lime and is busily wiping its beak on Terrista's sleeve. "Damn it bird! I'll keelhaul ye!" She shakes her shoulder, and it flies off to perch on a nearby rail and continue observing the conversation. Terrista grabs the rum back from Garret and quafs some more. "Alright so, round'about then, I'd been up in Dragon's Jaw roundin up a new boat'n crew, and I guess that fucker decided he was gonna take the port or blow it up or something; I never asked. Bastard's half wyld-crazed as it is. Anyway, he shows up there on Vermillion shootin this way an' that, so I gets meself all shiny to fight back, and soon as me caste mark's showin, the whole thing just stops dead." She chuckles a bit, laughing as she continues the story, "well ol' Dancer comes out on the deck an' he's just'a screamin. Shoulda seen the look on his face after he kicked one o'the essence cannons, an' Vermillion flipped herself on and told him... heh, what was it?"


"Core essence type not recognized. Potential hazard. Shutting down as per safety protocol 1154."


"HAH! Yeah that was it. So Dancer's just runnin this way and that and yellin, and he doesn't know what's what. Vermillion locks the door on him and just says 'I can't do that, Dancer' when he yells at her, and then she shuts up. Well that's about when I got up there and told him to get his arse off me ship. I did it with less words and more punchin though. About then everyone on the dock were cryin 'anathema' so he hightailed it outta there. Vermillion told me how to start her up, so I got below deck, stuck me own hearthstone in, and took off. And that was that. We been sailin the skies oh, five or six years now."