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  • Originally posted by Frostav View Post
    So I went for "if you do this you aren't even a Terrestrial anymore, you're...something"
    I used to have ideas for this way back when that there were ways for Terrestrials to exceed the limits and become Celestial tier. Of course, in my version in doing so became literal Dragons.

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    • Originally posted by JohnDoe244 View Post
      Hell yeah!
      I couldn't really think of a good way of putting it that couldn't easily be misinterpreted so I wrote a scene, I see it going something like this:


      There was a small town nestled in the crook of two mountain ranges. The mountains themselves were pink crystal, and rose into the night sky far above. Tonight that sky was filled with a brilliant aurora, a bad omen in recent years, and so all remained awake and ready. They did not have to wait for long, for early into the night the river that flowed down from the mountaintop began to sputter along the surface, and droplets began to rise from it. Soon, those drops turned to rivulets, which began to flow backwards against the curent.

      "Hark!" cried a voice from far away up the river, "Aid comes to you!" Appearing around the bend then came a ship, one would find it difficult to believe such a large vessal could ply the river, but it didn't seem to bother the captain at all. Standing aside the helm, with the mark of the goddess Mercury dimly glowing upon her brow.

      The ship slowed and beached itself easily on the banks of the river. "Come aboard!" she told the people of the town, "We have room for you all, and this place will soon be destroyed. Ixotel, Vortex of All Souls, seventh soul of Adrian comes to this land!" Even as the people rushed on board, six figures leaped from the high gilded rails to land on the ground. They were followed by a large group of heavily armed soldiers.

      One was an older woman, raised above humankind by the powers of the sea, a boy blessed by the sun, and the three others the moon. They clasped hands, and held eachother tight, for they knew this night may well be their last. The trio slipped into the water behind the boat and as they did their forms warped and grew into the shapes of mighty ocean predators, making swift progress even against the current. The remaining two saluted the captain, her ship now burgeoning with refugees, and sent her off downstream.

      Almost as soon as the ship was out of sight, something else came into view. Cresting above the peak of the pink crystal mountains. A writing mass of liquid, that seemed to draw all other fluid into it. The wind picked up in its direction, the river now began to lose the battle against gravity and flow back upon itself. Even the figures standing in the deserted town felt its pull.

      The woman looked to the boy "Are you ready, Jalar?" she asked.

      He flexed his fingers and shadowboxed the air with a few swift jabs, "I think so, I'm a lot stronger than I was before. Thank you, Astrid."

      She nodded. It was the truth, he'd grown much in the past few months, he may even be able to outpase her now. She hoped so, they would need that strength. If they survived the night, of course. A chance that became much slimmer when she saw the enemy that they faced. Not just Ixotel, they'd accounted for that, but in the air above them. Varadey, the Windborn Blade, third soul of Ixotel, and a swarm of some kind of creature. She'd never seen them before, demon, creation, maybe even illusion, but whatever they were they seemed to be nothing but talons and feathers.

      Jalar jabbed the air again as he prepared, and the soldiers formed up into a phalanx behind the pair. Varadey alighted silently on a rooftop down the road, his four wings turning from white feathers to razor obsidian in an instant. His head tilted to the side as he scanned the small force before him. "Odd things, you are. There were many of you here, but you've taken them away. You could simply make more, you know" he said, genuinely baffled. He breathed in deep the roiling air "ah, the purity of it, before long that pure scent will be painted with the smell of blood. I will let the ones who lived here escape, I wish them to make more. More blood to paint the wind with."

      At that moment the young sun warrior sprang towards the demon, hurling a fist towards his face but finding his blow blocked by feathers as hard as glass. The two then began to dance across the rooftops, while the taloned creatures descended upon Astrid and her troops. Soon the town was lit both by the aurora and the burning essence of the two fighters. Something was wrong though, Jalar felt it. He was stronger by far than he was a few months ago, matching the creature in front of him blow for blow, fist against obsidian wing, talon against oaken-flesh, and yet for all that he could muster, he was tiring. Varadey though, he seemed as fresh as the spring breeze, even now. His knucles were bloody from striking the razor sharp stone, and he tasted blood on his own breath.

      He needed something more, or to finish this before he became exhausted, and he saw his chance. Some kind of statue in the cental square of the town, one that held an enormous wrought iron spear. Dredging the very bottom of his soul, tapping into his last reserves, he cocked his fist back and let loose with the greatest haymaker of his life, slamming solidly into Varadey's wing and sending him hurtling through the air, impaling him on that spike. The demon looked down, his wings shedding their obsidian armor and returning to feather white, now stained with blood.

      The demon grabbed hold of the offending object, and stared at it a moment. Then looking back to Jalar, then at something in the far distance. "More than blood on this wind" he said.

      "What the fuck are you talking about?" Jalar panted, struggling to scramble down from the rooftop and limping towards the demon.

      The creature pushed hard and lifted himself from the spear, floating seeming without effort, back into the air. "Hey!" called Jalar "Hey get back here! I'm not finished with you!" His anima burned, but as he leaped after his foe he barely cleared six feed before flopping back to the ground.

      "No, nor I you. I will remember this day. You have given me many thoughts to toy with." The Windborn Blade then ascended faster and faster, and from the mountain top a horrible cry echoed across the valley. It was a sound of pain, of wreched wounding, and with it came the sharp change in the wind. No longer flowing up towards the mountain, but screaming away from it. A momemt after that, the river returned, with every drop of water that had been building since Ixotel's arrival. It crashed through buildings, through trees, washing out fields and obliterating apiaries. Jalar saw it coming, saw its speed, and merely kneeled in acceptance.

      "Get up. I'm not finished with you either" he heard Astrid order him. She grabbed him under one of his arms and threw him across her shoulders, striding towards the oncoming wall of water. A split second before it arrived she hopped onto the statue and then jumped over the crashing wave, dodging the destructive force and instead landing in the deadly flow behind it. She was born of the water though, and her patron safeguarded her from it. Even with companion weighing her down she swam hard enough to keep both their heads above it, and stop them from slamming into anthing on their way down, and down they did go. Swift as an arrow they sped past trees and rocks down the valley until at last they washed out along the planes. As soon as they could stand again the looked back at the mountain.

      The peak was now cleaved in two, destroyed by Ixotels wounded flailing, and the titanic demon itself nowhere to be seen. "Do you think they survived?" Jalar asked.

      Astrid shook her head "They knew what was being asked of them. Make no mistake, this was our victory today. Ixotel will not recover from that wound today, maybe not ever, and those people will go on to tell others what we've done. That's the biggest victory here. Their lives, and their stories of how the demons were hurt today."

      Jalar looked down at his bloody knuckles. "Good, next time they can tell the story of how the Windborn Blade died."

      Astrid nodded "I'd like to be a part of that story, I think."



      So like, not people casually using mountains as brass knuckles to bash third circle demons around like they're little bitches, but still big epic stuff going on. A feeling that they're actually punching up against crazy powerful things.

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      • I'm not sure if this is a good idea or bad.

        But sorcery has certain 'styles' that is, if you have 1 spell, you can have an xp and training time discount for similar spells. Being able to summon demons means that it's easier for you to learn how to summon elementals, ghosts, golems, and how to banish them. Being able to manipulate the earth means you can manipulate fire and atmosphere. Which means that sorcerers who truly know disparate spells are masters. And each NPC sorcerer tends to have a 'trend'.

        Also, sorcery is both flexible, and yet rigid. You can't stop the fact that you're casting death by obsidian butterflies, but you can, for lack of a better word, alter it's size. Maybe narrow the cone of destruction, or trade width for range.

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        • As I've stated before, I'm not a fan of getimians as an exalt. I much prefer them as a very powerful created race. Each of which have one flawed destiny that they wish to finish. The being is usually human treated as an exalt but if the body dies the getimian just takes over another body and recreates them. This process resets them each time to zero until the destiny finally plays out. When it finally happens they continue on with that fate dies until it ends and then they start over with a new being who never existed. The intent is to weaken integrity of the loom. They aren't always human sometimes they'll be a lintha and other times they be a dragon king. Sometimes they'll mistaken as a spirit or elemental but they don't have any powers but their own.

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          • Originally posted by Epimetheus View Post
            As I've stated before, I'm not a fan of getimians as an exalt. I much prefer them as a very powerful created race. Each of which have one flawed destiny that they wish to finish. The being is usually human treated as an exalt but if the body dies the getimian just takes over another body and recreates them. This process resets them each time to zero until the destiny finally plays out. When it finally happens they continue on with that fate dies until it ends and then they start over with a new being who never existed. The intent is to weaken integrity of the loom. They aren't always human sometimes they'll be a lintha and other times they be a dragon king. Sometimes they'll mistaken as a spirit or elemental but they don't have any powers but their own.
            Who made them?

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            • Originally posted by Flare View Post

              Who made them?
              As they seek to inflict paradox on the loom. It only makes sense that they're created by the loom as a mistake. It's a rare but naturally occurring process which seeks to replicate itself.

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              • Originally posted by Epimetheus View Post
                As they seek to inflict paradox on the loom. It only makes sense that they're created by the loom as a mistake. It's a rare but naturally occurring process which seeks to replicate itself.
                How do you deal with them once they've been made?

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                • Originally posted by Flare View Post

                  How do you deal with them once they've been made?
                  Since they still take the form of a broken pattern spider, you have to kill the body then kill the spider. The spider is vulnerable but again capable of entering another person. This resets the destiny like I said they go back to E1 but the being can try again. So long as the body wasn't killed the spider can switch bodies without resetting the destiny. It can't enter the body of exalts due to having a shard.

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                  • This is sounding different enough to Getimians that it could be a separate thing that exists alongside them.

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                    • Politics in Exalted can take very, very strange turns that don't work normally because of human, social, economic, and other factors. But when you have, say, an Essence 5 Alchemical with Intelligence charms helping run your state, you can do *things*. Not to mention the various other things that come up when you have Exalts, Sorcerous workings, and weirder stuff running your state.

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                      • Following the Usurpation Tamuz styled himself as an enlightened gentleman of a more civilised time and a voice of reconciliation in a world trying to tear itself apart. He backed the doomed attempts to broker peace with the Sidereals and when they failed his goals shifted towards shaping the leadership of the Dragon-Blooded to be more open-minded, his backing of Jurul in the hopes she would ultimately replace the Scarlet Empress being the most recent.

                        Some believe he died the night when House Jurul fell, others point out that Tamuz refusing to show his face until he’s concocted a new scheme would be perfectly in character.

                        Tamuz would be much more popular among the Silver Pact were it not for one very distasteful rumour that he has never quite been able to escape, that he knew of the Usurpation and saw it as an opportunity. Even if it is true, does that mean he has friends left among the Sidereal Exalted or is he simply a loose end that’s desperately clinging to relevance?

                        Historically, Tamuz has been framed as the elder statesman who wanted to work for the betterment of humanity. I wanted something in-keeping with that which wasn't disrespectful to other shahan-yas by portraying him as the adult in the room and allowed him to be an antagonist. The connection to House Jurul is obviously subject to change if those events get expanded upon.


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                        • This is for Crafting:

                          Normal Creation crafting by mortals: A lone blacksmith with one or two assistants in a forge, hammering at bog iron with an ordinary anvil and hammer, and if he's lucky or rich he gets to have a hand-cranked air pump and a load of charcoal for the forge.
                          Realm-level crafting by mortals: A blacksmith with a water-powered air bellows that lets him create true molten iron, with a dozen or so highly trained apprentices at his side, with thaumaturgically enhanced tools and elementals to further increase the flame and perfect the metal.
                          Shogunate-level Crafting: A dozen teams of blacksmiths hammering under the command of 1 DB, with magically enhanced tools by their side and on the tables. They hammer out tools at speeds that would more resemble a factory or an assembly line.
                          First Age Crafting: There's a mirror. You show the thing you want. You reach aross the mirror and take the reflection. You now have 2 things, but one is reversed. Carry this out en masse for everything, like gold or complex craft or food. You can't replicate artifacts, but thaumaturgy is allowed.

                          This is for Brewers, alcoholics, and medicine.

                          There's a propensity for certain areas of Creation to view brewers in the same grouping as doctors and such. This is for multiple reasons. Due to the many, many issues with Creation in and of itself, Alcohol serves as a pretty good medicine. It disinfects, it gets you drunk for the terrible, terrible surgery (If there's no opium) and basically it's useful for quite a lot of things. But there's another reason for it. In Creation proper, in the First Age there were great factories and vast facilities where many, many thaumaturgical products were created. Painkillers, anti-septic medicines, drugs of all sorts... and due to certain factors, what was used were microbes which had been altered to transform these alchemical products (and the various reagants and catalysts) into the desired products. In effect, they were 'brewed', not too dissimilar to how brewers created beer, wine, and other products with yeast.

                          After the end, some remembered the odd association, and due to freak chance, it's been passed down. And some brewers work with it, their skill in mixing and creating of alcohols serving them well as they mix various drugs and alchemical concoctions in their vats and barrels, whilst making beer and rum on the side. After all, if you've got lots of time and practice in mixing and pouring and experimenting with one drug, why not more?

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                          • ​The most relevant danger of passing through most wyld zones is what it does to your food. Most of them are weak enough that people and animals are internally consistent enough to shrug off its influence even long-term, but seeds, spores and bacteria are much more susceptible. Normally this is experienced as food going bad much faster as meats are broken down by eruptions of bacteria, bread and cheeses playing host to new strains of mould while fruit and vegetables start sprouting roots. Inconvenient and potentially catastrophic if this is all the food you have available.

                            Occasionally the touch of the wyld is unmistakable when spoiling beef seems to remember its bovine origins and grow horns or unfertilised chicken eggs overlapping with nearby fly eggs to yield some horrible fusion of fowl and maggot. The practice of sealing some food in iron containers originated in areas where this is an all-too-common problem but has travelled much further because of its utility.


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                            • This topic has grown rather long and in the interests of cultivating the forum so it doesn't break on us again I'm closing it, would whoever make the next incarnation of it please link to this topic?
                              Last edited by Lioness; 03-30-2021, 05:33 PM.


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