GM: Kevan Forbes
System: Exalted, 2nd Edition
Hand’s Account
It has been too long, many months since I’ve written. Events transpired quickly and we had to leave the manse in a rush. When we returned our world had changed, and we with it. We were no longer hidden from fate, but tied inextricably to the Despot, to be his ally, servant or master we could not know. Like the details of Xin Ghou’s appearance, memories of these last few months elude me. These clumsy hands will recount to their best ability, the story of my circle.
Fighting the Queen of Dreams now seems like it happened in another life, one less complicated than my own. Melani had revealed to us that he had been visited by an ethereal beauty with eyes deep as the sea, and skin soft as morning breeze. I remembered my first encounter with the Fair Folk, when she nicknamed me “mouse”, how I too was moved by her captivating airs. We decided the only way to defeat the Queen was to do it on her terms, inside her territory, in the Wyld.
Guided by the light of the Unconquered Sun, we found the realm of the Dream Queen, dangerously close to Gem. After passing through her “trials” we were escorted into her court and thanks to protection granted by pacts of old were allows a peaceful parlance to negotiate her activity in Gem. Urasue, chosen voice of the Unconquered Sun spoke with grace, elegance and conviction. The arrangement was made, our champion would face theirs, the victor would leave unharmed, the looser would abate their interferences in Gem for a hundred years and a day.
Shining Thunder stood like the dawn sun radiating essence from his great hammer, while her champion smooth and strong as volcanic rock, wisped gracefully across the battlefield. The battle was deadly and quick. Shadow and Sand could beguile weaker men, but Thunder stood like a Mountain of the Unconquered Sun’s resolve. Swift as an avalanche he crushed the champion of the Fey beneath his might and won our cause.
As promised our return was not harried by the Fair Folk, but instead by one of Gem’s famous fire dust storms. Like a cur chasing its prey the storm chased us with malicious speed. At its base, playing in the wake of fire, my metaphor was made plain. Fire hounds danced, played and raced through the storm. Untouched and in fact enjoying the embers, immune to their heat.
We fled, seeking refuge in any oasis, cave our outcropping the fates deigned to bless us with. As if gifted by the Maidens for some service we were unaware of performing, our salvation appeared in the form of a lush oasis near a cave that would afford all the protection we would need. Unfortunately, the like the maw of a giant beast the cave produced twenty teeth, soldiers with spears, ready to die before letting strangers invade their sanctum.
My eyes are bleary from hours of practice this morning, and my throat sore from the inhalation of fire dust, I see now why many of the Rangers wear cloth over their mouths. Tomorrow I will start my training as a new man, or perchance a woman, they Despot may be more incline to overlook a new woman in his Ranger’s ranks.
