Difference between revisions of "Chapter One: A Circle from Many Parts"

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(Tickets to the Gun Show)
(Target: Tyrant Lizard)
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Sirokos had been having a very bad month.
 
Sirokos had been having a very bad month.
  
If there is a bright spot in the center of the universe (and I'm sure the terrestrials would have you believe it's a mountain), the Firelands are the furthest point from it.  Now this is not to say the South is not without a fair deal of traffic.  Sirokos' livelihood and chief form of entertainment depended on it.  You could say Sirokos was a bandit, or brigand, or whatever other label the local representative of The Realm chose to call his activities.  Sirokos, naturally, didn't hold to this view.  He rather thought himself a revolutionary, quietly unraveling the moldering tapestry of Realm authority one fat trader caravan at a time.  If the proceeds from these excursions kept food in his belly and drink freely pouring down his parched pate, well, ''viva la revolucion!''
+
If there is a bright spot in the center of the universe (and I'm sure the terrestrials would have you believe it's a mountain), the Firelands are the furthest point from it.  Now this is not to say the South is without a fair deal of traffic.  Sirokos' livelihood and chief form of entertainment depended on it.  You could say Sirokos was a bandit, or brigand, or whatever other label the local representative of The Realm chose to call his activities.  Sirokos, naturally, didn't hold to this view.  He rather thought himself a revolutionary, quietly unraveling the moldering tapestry of Realm authority one fat trade caravan at a time.  If the proceeds from these excursions kept food in his belly and drink freely pouring down his parched pate, well, ''viva la revolucion!''
  
 
Business, however, had been very poor of late.  Either he was too successful for his own good or, the more likely, The Realm had found alternate means of ferrying goods.  For the kind of young fire-brand that Sirokos exemplifies, there is little sport to holding up simple farmers and cattle herders.  With a grumbling stomach and a spirit thriving for a challenge he sat upon his usual roost overlooking the poetically named "Hedging Fence of Stone Timbers", a narrow ravine that all trade proceeding further south from Gem had to funnel through.  Sirokos's desire for a challenge, a distraction, had driven him to his Limit.
 
Business, however, had been very poor of late.  Either he was too successful for his own good or, the more likely, The Realm had found alternate means of ferrying goods.  For the kind of young fire-brand that Sirokos exemplifies, there is little sport to holding up simple farmers and cattle herders.  With a grumbling stomach and a spirit thriving for a challenge he sat upon his usual roost overlooking the poetically named "Hedging Fence of Stone Timbers", a narrow ravine that all trade proceeding further south from Gem had to funnel through.  Sirokos's desire for a challenge, a distraction, had driven him to his Limit.
  
As Sirokos pitched up a make-shift lean-to to beat off the sun's languorous tendrils of afternoon heat, lazily scraping his gaze across the arid badlands further north, he spotted something that caught his eye.  A distant but swiftly approaching cloud of dust marked the approach of something moving very rapidly, something...large.  Sirokos wasn't sure quite what it was until it drew close enough for him to make out the form of an enormous bipedal reptile, the like of which the Dragon Kings may have kept as pets.  Upon its back rode a simple but fierce looking girl, her eyes alert with a spear near at hand a shield readily available.  Behind her sat a very striking fellow, possibly some sort of authority in the labyrinthine structure of The Realm.
+
As Sirokos pitched up a make-shift lean-to to beat off the sun's languorous tendrils of afternoon heat, he lazily scraped his gaze across the arid badlands further north.  Something caught his eye.  A distant but swiftly approaching cloud of dust marked the approach of something moving very rapidly, something...large.  Sirokos wasn't sure quite what it was until it drew close enough for him to make out the form of an enormous bipedal reptile, the like of which the Dragon Kings may have kept as pets.  Upon its back rode a simple but fierce looking girl, her eyes alert with a spear near at hand shield at ready.  Behind her sat a very striking fellow, possibly some sort of authority in the labyrinthine structure of The Realm.
  
 
The decision came to Sirokos as rapidly as his guns game to his hands.  A mark!  The fop must have swag simply overflowing from the saddle-bags of that overgrown gecko, and the farm girl shouldn't be much trouble, he thought to himself with a smile.  Dashing to the far end of the ravine Sirokos wheeled into the opening with The Incandescent Arbiters As They Sit Upon an Earthen Throne gleaming and warm in his hands, the lowering afternoon sun casting his shadow long down the trench.  He said not a word, trusting his guns and his glare to speak his intent plainly.
 
The decision came to Sirokos as rapidly as his guns game to his hands.  A mark!  The fop must have swag simply overflowing from the saddle-bags of that overgrown gecko, and the farm girl shouldn't be much trouble, he thought to himself with a smile.  Dashing to the far end of the ravine Sirokos wheeled into the opening with The Incandescent Arbiters As They Sit Upon an Earthen Throne gleaming and warm in his hands, the lowering afternoon sun casting his shadow long down the trench.  He said not a word, trusting his guns and his glare to speak his intent plainly.

Revision as of 09:42, 24 May 2010

This Page is a part of the history from the campaign Orichalcum Handbasket.

This chapter chronicles how the individual members of the Circle of the Radiant Insurrection met, and became the force of chaos that now boils through creation.

A Not-so-Dormant Volcano

Enter Feyth, Eclipse Caste Solar Exalt, stage left, in the city of Gem. Or, to be more specific, the dormant volcano that housed Gem. Feyth entered town, learning a few things about the local fire elementals from the townspeople, and proceeded to track down these elementals in the hopes of talking them into stirring things up. Really, the volcano had been dormant for far too long and besides...it was their own fault for building a city in a volcano. Unfortunately, he wasn't as stealthy about his plans as he'd hoped to be, and he soon found himself accosted by a group of rightly concerned townspeople.

When Arisa, a Zenith Caste cowgirl arrived in Gem in the midst of her wanderings, she found a fantastic looking man being accosted by a number of rough looking townsfolk. Unable to hold herself back from what looked like an exciting fight, Arisa threw herself into the battle to save the fantastic man, if only because he looked like he could use a hand... and a drink.

After the fight, Arisa and Feyth rode out of town on Arisa's Tyrant Lizard familiar, Rover. Luckily for Feyth, Rover took a liking to him, and even allowed him to ride on his back, in exchange for a treat. Feyth, being Feyth, convinced the monstrous tyrant lizard and his rider that really, he'd be better off if they let him tether himself to Rover and get dragged through the air behind them like an errant balloon.

Who Drinks Tea in a Tavern, Anyway?

A quiet monk, Duricorre, was calmly drinking a cup of tea in the local tavern when he noticed that a bunch of violent ragamuffins seemed to be scrabbling around him. He quickly put an end to this by using his clockwork armament to quell the uprising. Seeing the quick, clean actions of Duricorre, the instigator of the bar fight, a Night Caste thief named Ebon Hand of the Dragon was impressed.

Ebon's intentions when she approached the monk were made clear very quickly. In her infinitely spur-of-the-moment wisdom, Ebon proposed to this strong-armed monk that he should perform the duties of a bodyguard for her. Since Duricorre has a high Temperance, he did not immediately throw the idea aside. Duricorre was still so annoyed by the childishness and the low temperance of the rabble around him that his response to Ebon's assumptions about what he would do for her was mere apathy. Sensing acceptance, Ebon gave a little squeal, and shadowed Duricorre everywhere he went in the city, and a tentative partnership was formed.

Target: Tyrant Lizard

Sirokos had been having a very bad month.

If there is a bright spot in the center of the universe (and I'm sure the terrestrials would have you believe it's a mountain), the Firelands are the furthest point from it. Now this is not to say the South is without a fair deal of traffic. Sirokos' livelihood and chief form of entertainment depended on it. You could say Sirokos was a bandit, or brigand, or whatever other label the local representative of The Realm chose to call his activities. Sirokos, naturally, didn't hold to this view. He rather thought himself a revolutionary, quietly unraveling the moldering tapestry of Realm authority one fat trade caravan at a time. If the proceeds from these excursions kept food in his belly and drink freely pouring down his parched pate, well, viva la revolucion!

Business, however, had been very poor of late. Either he was too successful for his own good or, the more likely, The Realm had found alternate means of ferrying goods. For the kind of young fire-brand that Sirokos exemplifies, there is little sport to holding up simple farmers and cattle herders. With a grumbling stomach and a spirit thriving for a challenge he sat upon his usual roost overlooking the poetically named "Hedging Fence of Stone Timbers", a narrow ravine that all trade proceeding further south from Gem had to funnel through. Sirokos's desire for a challenge, a distraction, had driven him to his Limit.

As Sirokos pitched up a make-shift lean-to to beat off the sun's languorous tendrils of afternoon heat, he lazily scraped his gaze across the arid badlands further north. Something caught his eye. A distant but swiftly approaching cloud of dust marked the approach of something moving very rapidly, something...large. Sirokos wasn't sure quite what it was until it drew close enough for him to make out the form of an enormous bipedal reptile, the like of which the Dragon Kings may have kept as pets. Upon its back rode a simple but fierce looking girl, her eyes alert with a spear near at hand shield at ready. Behind her sat a very striking fellow, possibly some sort of authority in the labyrinthine structure of The Realm.

The decision came to Sirokos as rapidly as his guns game to his hands. A mark! The fop must have swag simply overflowing from the saddle-bags of that overgrown gecko, and the farm girl shouldn't be much trouble, he thought to himself with a smile. Dashing to the far end of the ravine Sirokos wheeled into the opening with The Incandescent Arbiters As They Sit Upon an Earthen Throne gleaming and warm in his hands, the lowering afternoon sun casting his shadow long down the trench. He said not a word, trusting his guns and his glare to speak his intent plainly.

Tickets to the Gun Show

As he stood before them, barring the path out of the ravine, Sirokos thought he saw a flash of surprise on the girl's face. Whether or not his daring actually surprised her, that look quickly turned into incredulity and contempt. Her beast let out a roar of delight and merely quickened its pace, head lowering and jaw dripping at the thought of an easy meal. The well kept gentleman merely smiled with amusement. "An easy mark" thought Sirokos to himself, and fired a warning shot with Justice, Resplendent in Her Blind Abandon and Vengeance, Long Shadow Cast Upon the Road of Error.

Surprisingly, the beast didn't even flinch as the heat of the two First Age cannons sped past it. Rather, with a joyous roar it closed the distance between itself and Sirokos in the merest blink of an eye. Enshrouded in the heavy breath of a barely dodged bite, he realized that this may not be as simple as he planned. The beast allowed for little musing past that, however, as it attempted to stomp him into the ground between flashing attempts to consume him whole. Calling upon the speed granted the Dawn of the Unconquered Sun, Sirokos flowed around the lumbering tyrant's surprisingly accurate strikes. As the sun slowly passed along its course, Sirokos could feel his caste mark flare to brilliance from his exertions.

Arisa had been at first flabbergasted, then amused by the foolish approach of a simple robber. The flash of two Essence Cannons caused her but a brief moment's concern before Rover, The Mountain That Devours, was upon him. "Ah well, Rover musta been hungry after the run from Gem" she thought, thinking her daft assailant no more. To her renewed surprise, however, he was not only still alive but uninjured, dodging around Rover's probing assaults like a dust-devil. Feeling rover slowly tiring under her, the explanation for his difficulties in acquiring a meal soon came to light (quite literally). Arisa hadn't seen too many other Chosen of the Unconquered Sun before, and had only recently just come upon Feyth. The burning brand of her attacker's Caste Mark, however, was unmistakable. Maybe this idiot could be useful, if Rover doesn't devour him first.

A subtle gesture, barely even the twitch of a single muscle, was all the command Rover needed to back off. A mournful groan escaped its jowls as it obediently withdrew from its elusive meal. Sirokos, sensing a shift in the intent of his targets, stood warily. He grinned like a fool up at the woman who was clearly this beast's master - that had been the most fun he had all month! Names were exchanged, and intent. Exalted, eh? Stirring trouble in Gem, eh? It seems like Sirokos had finally found a few kindred spirits. Sirokos led them to the cave he called home where they might feast as friends.