Literally through the woodwork, Alden Frakes rose up out of Yu Shan and arrived in Creation right by Nexus by stepping out of a stand of trees. True to their SOP, the Sidereals didn't have to use the big flashy gates to deploy their agents. Better to keep it low-key so that nobody knew the skeleton crew of Sidereals had just become 1% more skeletal. He was dressed in a nice travelling cloak with a scarf and a flat helmet. It was a bit unseasonably warm, but also certainly stylish, and, more importantly, very concealing.
Best-case outcome would be that Frakes wouldn't even have to employ any of his powers at all; he would just waltz into the hive of scum and villainy about a mile away from where he currently was and start searching through the various artifact dealers of Nexus. If anyone in Creation was going to know where a powerful and most likely highly illegal artifact was going to be, this would probably be the place. He wrote all of this down into a little notebook with the word MISSION LOG scrawled on it in a dense cipher of his own invention, then set off towards Nexus.
Shadowed Silver Blade was still finding it weird to get used to this land. The feeling of something finely ground under his feet, the warmth on his face from a light source seemingly far away from reach, the lack of buzzing fluorescents and hissing gases... even with his eyes gone, there was no mistaking this place for Autochthonia.
Now is not the time to get distracted, Silver thought to himself as he checked the clasp on the cloak to make sure it was still secure. Assuming I haven't gotten myself lost again, I shouldn't be far from that town. I'll need to be ready to activate Integrated Artifact Transmogrifier once I get a bit closer. The last thing I need is to cause more rumors of Anathema in the area—
He stopped moving for a moment as he heard footsteps not too far from his current location. Change of plans. I can't afford to be noticed like this. He concentrated for a moment as he activated the charm, hoping that by the time other person noticed him (if they even noticed him), he'd be unmistakable from a mortal.
Footsteps in the distance. Damn, Alden hoped he'd be able to make it to Nexus alone. Guess he'd have to engage them. He clutched the blades hidden beneath his cape, just in case. He prayed that he wouldn't need them, and turned around to face the significantly taller man as he approached.
"Oh, hello there," he said, as if he hadn't heard the man coming. "How is the day treating you? Are you headed to Nexus as well?"
Another newcomer arrived, his step light. As per his training, the sheath of his sword was not on his belt, but in his off hand. There was no mistaking Wind Cutter Snipe for a practitioner of any other style.
Well, seems that this is where the wind leads me.
His gaze turned to steel upon noticing that two others were here, though as usual, the mere fact of his sheathed weapon being in his hand meant he was as prepared as always. His face remains calm.
"Hello there, fellow travelers. On your way to Nexus?"
Looks like I changed just in time, Silver thought to himself. Neither of them seem to be suspicious of me.
"I am doing well," he responded. "And yes, I'm also headed there..."
Sorry for a bad post...
"As I just said to this man before you appeared." Alden replied. He kept his scarf up over his face and kept his helmet low. These two people didn't have bags of any sort, and that man was carrying his sword in an unmistakable stance: Wind Cutting Style. The martial art of the Dawn Caste; how courteous of the Solars to be so transparent about it. The strands of Fate thrummed in his ear as always, but none of them forecast combat just yet. He was safe.
"I was just taking a stroll outside the city before heading back; the country air and the exercise is good for the constitution." There, he'd established a cover for why he didn't have any bags. "My name's Alden. Walk with me for awhile, we should stick together." Alden didn't actually check if they were following; he just struck off towards Nexus at the same pace he had been at.
"Alright," Silver responded, following Alden. He had a point, it was better to stick together, especially if what he heard about the city was true. Plus, it meant less of a chance of him getting lost.
"Well, seems we are going the same way, so why not."
Wind Cutter Snipe followed behind, sheathed sword in hand as always. Never knew what someone like him would encounter on the road.
Alden made a quiet choking sound as they kept walking. These guys were good; they had neatly sidestepped his implication that he wanted names, and just... kept walking. One final test, though, would determine whom he was dealing with. After all, he could be mistaken with the swordsman (he wasn't). By minor degrees Alden slowed his pacing, which wasn't that big a deal because the other two men were taller and therefore taking longer strides anyway.
As soon as they passed him, the occulted presence of all Sidereal Exalted would have tripped; Alden sped up again and eyed them both for the look of dull recognition as he reappeared to them. This was a quick and easy litmus test for most forms of supernatural life. "Sorry." He said, turning between both of them and studying intently. "Shorter legs, and, well, shorter strides. Guess I'll just have to keep up. Heh."
Up on Melancholy hill.
As the three of them walked off down the road, little did they know, they were being watched...by more than one figure.
...
The Mask of Winters could only stare in boredom as the strange figure, that seemed human but was obviously not human, shifted in appearance. He gave a little smile as his cold, wrinkled finger slowly stroked over his cracked lips.
"Well, that's sure to be interesting in the future." He rose to his feet, a terrifying seven foot even tall as he walked down the stairs from his throne, his head tilting to the side. "Whatever do you even call these things? Do we call them automota? Robots? Sentries?"
He turned his attention to the dead eyed undead beside him and smirked. "None, my dear pawn. We call them a fun encounter for our dear lion. Word through the grapevine is there's something stirring and something tells me he's going to want his rusty little mitts on them. Ahhh, to aid, or to hinder...truly, a choice the likes of which I cannot do myself."
"CRIMSON SKIES!"
"Yes, my lord." Rumbled a figure off to the side, snapping to attention. Shrouded in shadow, little could be seen of the silhouette.
Gesturing in a bored manner, The Mask ordered, "Do keep an eye on these three. If we happen to see one of your siblings out near them, we'll know we're in the right place. Do with them as you please, I give you..." he cleared his throat, bile rising as he uttered out, "Freedom to choose."
Bowing, the silhouette walked off without another word.
"This is sure to be fun, regardless of the outcome." Laughed the Mask, as he grabbed a nearby goblet and stirred it for a moment. "Let the games begin, Lion!"
...
Hmmm, tell me, chosen. Do you see people crawl from the woodwork like they were nothing?
"I can't say that I have, master, but in this world, anything is possible."
The voice barked a laugh. Too true, chosen, too true! Do me a favor, my little puppet, and follow him back. Do be careful as to be unseen. They could be helpful in the future.
"And if I am seen, my master?"
Slaughter them, of course.
Is it selfish that I'm happy as we pass the setting sun?
Silver realized that Alden was falling behind well before he shorter man had said anything, and had stopped and turned to face his general direction when he did. "Apologies about that. I should have been paying more attention, since you're the one who knows where we're going..."
Alden wasn't going to get a good look at Silver's eyes, though. Even with the long bangs obscuring a good portion of the upper half of his face, it looked as though something else was covering them.
Sorry for taking so long, everyone...
Dammit! Alden was grateful once again for his mask. The other traveler hadn't broken line of sight! He'd tipped his hand, though, and now something weird was at work here: the other traveler didn't know the area. Alden seized the opportunity; even the most subtle of Exalted had a drive to act, after all.
"I'm sorry, what was that last part?" Alden pressed. "You should know the area fine, right? I can only reason that to be the case, seeing as you are not carrying any bags that would signify you as a traveler."
"Afraid not," Silver responded. "I ended up stranded not too far to the north, and I'm just hoping to find my way back home. As for bags, I did not have much with me to begin with."
It was technically true. Of course, he was hiding the fact that as far as he could tell, "home" was not even on the map of this odd place, and that this trip was likely a fool's errand...
Oh, shit, now Alden was the dick here. He wasn't a Chosen of Journeys or anything, but he could certainly help the young man on his way. As was his duty towards all of Creation.
"I'm sorry for my aggression." Alden bowed his head slightly. "We live in uncertain times; I hope you can empathize with my position here. Do you have a way of getting home, or informing your associates that you need help? If not, I could certainly lend you my assistance." Alden's quest here in Nexus would probably require a lot of waiting around and poring over information. The Bureaucracy would understand if he also took it upon himself to help some poor soul out in the meantime.
"I understand," Silver responded, thinking of the situation at home. "And as for my predicament, unless you know where the realm of Autochthonia is, I do not know how you can help. I've had no luck with attempts to contact them, and no one in this land seem to know of its location."
Alden's eyes widened. He hadn't expected this. He was a little worried about what the swordsman would have to say about this, but if things turned violent he was almost entirely assured he could get out of it alive.
"I certainly do know of Autochthonia. I'm one of the few in Creation that would." Alden may have acted rashly here, but for his own well-being he had to do it. This was an opportunity to do something he knew was good, something he hadn't done lately. Alden tipped his helmet up and willed his Anima outwards, a purple outline of an outstretched hand wavering into existence on his forehead. "I have my own business to attend to, but I can certainly take some time aside to help you as well." He pulled his mask down to let the man see his smile. "Your creator helped my people and my employers in their time of need; it's only fitting I return the favor."
''Once upon a time, in the land of creation, there sat an inventor.
The inventor sat amidst his failed drawings and concepts for what he wanted to create. All failures, all endless failures. He knew he would never make a mark on history.
That was, until a voice echoed out in the great beyond to him and him alone, it seemed.
"You wish to show the world your wisdom. I can see your truest desires and know of this desire myself."
"I wish to aid you, human. With your hands, and my mind, together, we shall create something that will go down in generations to come! Your name shall be a legend among the crafters!"
The scientist, a mere mortal, was quick to accept this offer. Those bestowed with the blessings of the gods oft did not pass up such an opportunity.
And so, with the voice guiding him, the man created three suits of armor. A bright verdant green, a fiery red, and a calming blue. All large enough to fit a full grown adult, styled each way to be unique from the other.
The inventor fell to his knees and wept with joy at his creations. After several years of working and tiring and almost killing himself, his name his legacy, would live on! But he had to know; what could these magical artifacts do? He knew not the magic that went into them, his hands only created, they knew not what they forged.
The voice whispered in a tempting voice what each of the armor could do, in hideously graphic detail.The joy left the mans eyes and his eyes grew wide in horror, his mouth agape. Realizing he had been fooled, the man knew what he had to do.
Destroy his legacy.
He would never get the chance. The voice knew that the fool would try and stop him, which is why he sent some aid to persuade him.
To this day, they couldn't find the rest of the scientist to save their lives.
The armor was gone to the ages. Stories tell of the armor scattered through time. One such story involves a war between the Dragonblooded and the Fair Folk, when the red armor approached with an almost leisurely pace. The crater that resulted in that battle would forever be known as the Smoking Death Crypt.
Tales come up every now and then. Sightings. Whispered hushes in the castles...
How much longer until they became real...?''
....
The First and Forsaken Lion stared down at the Deathknight before him, kneeling down and feeling the terror eminating off of her body. She shivered, hand to her chest as she felt his impossibly cold eyes bore into her very existence.
"The Armor..." Grumbled the immense form sitting on his larger throne, his voice echoing in his suit of studded armr. "Has been...seen..."
"Y-Yes my lord." She gulped. "In the south. I no know not where the other two-"
"Find it." He barked. "Find it and return it to me.'
"Of course, my lord."
...
"Ahhh...the Armor...or at least one." A low, hissing chuckle escaped from the back of the young man's head, causing him to flinch. He did so hate it when his master spoke to him directly. "This should cause the right amount of strife we're looking for...be a dear, boy, and find it."
"But, that's not what you-" He felt his body freeze in horror as if something grabbed his very soul.
"I own you, boy. I want to remind you that you are my property so long as you hold my power. And I want that armor. Understand?"
"Y-Yes..."
"Good boy."
...
But thankfully, even as the forces of evil toiled...heroes would rise through the woodwork.
Let's take a look at them, shall we?
edited 27th Apr '16 8:48:30 PM by MichaelDj54
Is it selfish that I'm happy as we pass the setting sun?