Exalted: Shadow and Steel, Chapter I - Blood and Iron

[Arhra]

Billowing walls of smoke closed smoothly over Masik, the running Twilight not able to cover enough ground to escape the smoke entirely.

It made his eyes and nose water and tingled on his skin, but he held on to his breath. Shouts that turned into choking and coughing told him those following behind him weren't so lucky.

The fabled demons appeared.

Lumbering figures were striding through the fog. They were thick bodied and carried a large shield and slim clubs. They were beating the clubs on a notch in their shields, the cause of the clapping sounds. Smooth metal helmets gave an impression of a oversized eyebrow ridge. Their black eyes were round, staring lenses and below was a muzzle-like protrusion. Two bag-like sacks attached there on either side, inflating and deflating slightly as they breathed.

To Masik's right, in amongst them, was a woman, not affected by the smoke. She was tall and strong, covered in matte black armour plating. Her face was the only exposed part of her body, skin as white as chalk and black hair cropped short. A blood red gem was set on her forehead, mounted on a bronze crest. Dark goggles concealed her eyes.

"I am Watchful-Guardian Pillar and I demand your surrender!" she shouted, voice carrying over the confusion. She had an unrecognisable accent, thickening her speech. "Drop your weapons, lie face down on the ground and place your hands on your head. If you leave the smoke, you will die."

In a few more seconds, Cap and Syren would be engulfed too.

* * *

Standing straight again, he watched the heavily garbed woman with a wary gaze and yet his scowl hadn't disappeared. "I'm not here to hurt them. I heard the news that Far People were here and something about silver tattoos. So yes, take me to them so that I may confirm these tales."

And so she took him elsewhere.

It was quite close to the village, just a little clearing in a little copse a few minutes' walk away.

There was a rude hut there, basically a single room as a shelter from the elements. The place seemed unremarkable, although Harken felt an unpleasant crawling over his skin as if he was being watched the moment he stepped within the circle of clear ground.

A enigma in a hooded cloak, a little on the short side, sat on a tree stump outside the hut.

"My lady?" the woman called out uncertainly. "This man has said he is looking for the Far People."

"Thank you, Miya, for bringing him here." the seated figure replied. She had a high, clear voice. "I will handle the rest. Please, return to your work."

The old woman hurried off. The slight girl sitting on the tree trunk rose to her feet and began making her way towards Harken. From the slit in the cloak, she seemed to be wearing the same sort of concealing clothes as the other woman underneath.

He couldn't see anything else of her except her chin. It was a very cute chin, he couldn't help but notice.

"I am called Dreams-Threaded Matrix and I am a traveller from a faraway land." the girl said as she approached. "Might I ask you your name and your business here?"

[Red Mage Black]

Harken was wary of strangers who covered themselves from head to toe. Even the woman that brought him here was suspicious. The circle didn't make matters any better. If he couldn't see the force that caused these sensations, then he couldn't trust this wasn't a trap of some sort. Cute chin or not, he wasn't going to place his trust in a stranger.

"I have nothing to hide from my enemies, but I do not give my name to those who hide behind veils. If you need a name, call me Broadhorns." He told her, the armor clanking noisily as he crossed his arms. "But I am here to see the Far People. That you may know. I too have come from a faraway land, but if you are not one of the Far People I seek, then precious time is being wasted. If you do not bear the rumored silver patterns, then I will be on my way."

[Sithdarth]

Not long after hearing the voice come from the seeming smoke it washed over Cap like a wave. The experience was highly unpleasant but nothing he couldn't endure for some time. Naturally he very much wanted to shout a defiant retort back at their aggressor, especially as he began to make out the shapes in the smoke. However, Cap was fairly sure that the large amount of breathing that entailed would make an uncomfortable situation down right unpleasant.

Instead he decided to make an altogether stronger statement. Hoping that the smoke would obscure what he was about to do, and that their enemies were capable of fear, Cap concentrated burning essence to fuel his anima. (That is to say he spent 10 motes to activate his anima power.) Instantly his anima blazed into existence like the sun piercing a morning fog. Without speaking a word Cap seemed transformed and it was very clear that he had no intention of surrender. Those weak of will and capable of fear would find it difficult to look at him much less put up a good fight.

[Overcast]

Syren chased after Masik but couldn't escape the coming smoke as it engulfed him, the damned stuff tore at any moisture producing facet of his body, eyes and nose watering, his throat covered in irritation. He let out a litany of coughs as he tried to keep himself moving, not enjoying this feeling in the slightest. But that plan stopped when they came.

Dark figures that threaded through the smoke, the percussion of their weapons on their shields creating an intimidating effect in the shroud that he had to remember to copy if he could get the materials. Men in wardrobes made to cover every inch, strange apparatus that hung from their strange faces, all soldiers uniform to the last, save for one, whose voice spoke clearly over the chaos and caught his attention.

And she called herself Watchful-Guardian Pillar. His mind noted the name, three times repeated and sealed in him so he could pull it at a moment's notice. She requested they fall and surrender, and while he did not like the concept he was not in any position to negotiate. He did not believe himself sneaky enough to escape, and while he imagined he could try to fight he was not in a tactically advantageous scenario.

A smart man would comply.

So when a sudden light began to shine behind him he wasn't all that surprised, he had come to assume he was one of the only smart men left in this world. He brought himself down to the ground, hands on his head, his chain still lying at his waist. His thought that they did not recognize something so rudimentary as a gold chain as a threat.

He hoped the hero would captivate them, and perhaps he could find his way to their leader. Just a few choice words and he might be able to find a way out of this.