The Practitioner took a couple of hours to figure out how to move the words of Creation to alter the flow of essence that penetrated the fabric of reality. Considering the depth and power of the changes he was making, a small mistake could result in an unplanned effect, as little as a wrong inflection on one sound might result the lands becoming as barren as the deepest desert just for starters and a more drastic error might erase everything around him for countless leagues. His choice of a body guard, the traitorous Abyssal and one time friend, the Messenger was important. It was one more act to show that he was still trusted and an opportunity for him to betray the group, but he remained true to his word, this day. An attack from the Shadowland, that he skirted to cast his great spell, could end the spell and his existence. The attack did not occur.
As soon as the casting began, its casting would take four days, the Nameless Wolf, landed and approached the City of Amber River. The last few hours before the predawn light touched the horizon, two great forces of the Cult of Illuminated troops touched down less than an hour's march of the walls, not as an invasion force but as its protector. The forces arrayed outside the city were caught by surprise as the Nameless arrived by Stormwind Rider, the retreated inside their walls and the patrols outside were left outside when the gate walls were barred from within. The three exalts moved toward the walls, along the bridge covering the Amber River, the Propagandist, the Sidereal Martial Art expert Lupo and, the Nameless. Nameless reordered the troops and gave them a message that he wished to meet with the Statrap about the defense of the city against the armies of the dead that are gathering outside. He then turned and left the gate retiring to the far side of the bridge.
After a couple hours, the maingates opened and a force progressed across the bridge, they stopped halfway. A lone figure broke away from that force and crossed the rest of the way. Negotiations ensued to begin negotiations. The Herald moved between the two groups until the Dragon Blooded, the Dynasts were comfortable enough to treat directly with their enemy. It was not until the nameless threatened to take the negotiations directly to the bedchamber of the Satrap that they relented. Negotiations did not start until the Practitioner was half way through the spell, purple lightning flickering across the sky.
Negotiations were put on delay for the reason that for all of his words, the Nameless' words were only that and there was no real reason to trust them. Every interaction to date had ended with many deaths and the destruction of much property and he claimed that the attackers that worked with undead were from a different faction and were trying to destroy the world. To their ears this was an unbelievable possibility; the childhood stories they grew up with matched this story and the idea that it was not so, could not be believed. The Nameless, understanding this, invited them to check out the local Shadowlands upon the completion of the spell. He then adjourned until then.
The spell completed and a great storm formed over the area and a heavy warm golden rain covered the region and continued for most of the day. When the rain lifted the medium sized and smaller shadowlands had closed up, the land was free of blight, right up to the edge of the Fell, bloated and unchanged, but the lesser shadowlands closed in less than a week, a major accomplishment.
Negotiations resumed and they seemed to be heading in a direction that pleased the Solar Exalted and the Cult of the Illuminated, when there was a rush of wind and a crash of sound as the people outside the tent clamoured in fear; outside a gateway to Yu-Shan had appeared and six men and women advanced from the Gate to the negotiation tent. Guards that jumped to defend the tent were swatted aside by the glance of the old man in robes' glance of disdain. He swept the tent flaps aside and crossed the room to stand directly before one of the Cult's Advisors, Venerable Silk, who he promptly backhanded and shouted at him about endangering Creation with his little stunt. He claimed that altering the Loom of Fate could have disaterous repocautions for the entire world and he had acted with so little concern that he should…. He stopped as if first noticing that the room was full of Dynasts and Immaculate Monks. He motioned to one of his fellows and spoke to her, "Iron Siaka, Clear the room of the rabble.". This included the Solar Exalted, until the Nameless objected, making it clear this was his meeting, not his. The eldest Exalt turned to him and motioned that the Solars may stay, saying that they are part of this too. And so the characters met Chejop Kejak, the leader of the Bronze Faction and the Architech of the Usurpation.
He claimed that the Loom of Fate had been altered so that the identity of exalted had been obscured in the North. It was only when Adamant Circle Sorcery had been cast and they could not pick out the identity of the caster from the flotsam that they detected the ruse. That and the group of ten Solar exalted they had been tracking coming from the North-East had suddenly become Terrestrials after they crossed an unknown barrier. He then told Silk that they had removed his changes.
Discussions continued from where they were going with the Dragon Blooded, except clearly these Exalted, could except that the Solars might be telling the truth that they were not completely evil. Chejop conceded that there might be a diffence between Solar Essences and this new threat, but he remained unconvinced. The Practitioner and the Nameless shared a look with Deepwater and the sorceror asked to send for the proof of what he said, to which Kejak assented. A messenger spell was sent to the Messenger and he began to journey to them. Chejop then began to talk about the things that he knew. All the Sidereals present were part of a committee in Heaven known as the Convention on Shadowlands, that researched their cause and formation as well as methods to close them. He then announced that the Sidereals he traveled with were also part of another secret committee, the Convention on Deathlords and the other Sidereals present would now be included in this committee. He told them that he had first become aware of these Deathlords a few centuries ago when a powerful ghost was seen travelling though Creation during the day and was tracked down to the Shadowland where the city gods of Great Forks had defeated it. They tracked it down but lost track of it as it entered the North. They had been doing a lot of scouting into the Underworld in the years since and had managed to uncover a few other Deathlords, but they did not know the significance of these creatures until one attacked Thorns a few months ago.
It was then that The Messenger entered the tent. Practitioner asked him to show Chejop his anima, his caste mark. It appeared like a standard gold Night Caste ring, until he dropped his disguise. His Golden Disc mark fades to black and a drop of blood dripped from its edge. Chejop peppered The Messenger with multiple questions about how this occurred, he responded where he could and Chejop scoffed at his gullibility and naïveté. Those that had known Chejop in the millennia before would have recognized a slight softening in the way he treated Messenger, although he was harsh in his statements afterwards it was more like those of an understanding and disappointed father…
The Nameless brought the attention back to the present asking what Chejop was going to do to help them in the defense of Amber River. The most powerful human in Creation turned to look at the Nameless Wolf and pointed his words at him as sure as the Solar's arrows, "We don't trust you yet. Too many of the attacks against have been accompanied by the forces of The Underworld to allow you to defend this land." He forestalled his objections that they were not Solars with a hand gesture, "We know now that they may have been something else, but the people will not except such a quick switching of tactics by your kind. You are still the demons that are going to end the World, however you believe that you are here to save them. Go to the North and stop the reinforcements from getting here. I will send observers to help you.". He left it unsaid that they would be evaluating their actions and the opposing group as well. Two of his fellows step forward, a woman wearing only robes and clothing that is green and a woman with a gore-maul named Iron Siaka. They will evaluate the actions of the Solars.
The group takes to the field. They arrive in the early dawn, just before the undead army reaches the Shadowland they are heading towards and so their arrival is unseen. The new day arrives and while the army prepares to wait out the day, the Solars carefully probe the army. They discover that the Abyssal enemy are unused to working together and that they are from the North East, from the Lover. They also learn that they are seeking someone called the Thrice Dread Achiban, the leader of the Fell. They seek to buy his support with his own personal Abyssal Exalt and with that, the Fell. It is clear that the Deathlords seem to not know what they know, that the Fell is controlled by the Black Sun another Deathlord. While tempting to inform them, the discovery of a Celestial Monstrance, with a corrupted Solar soul is too much of a prize to not destroy the army and take it. The Night caste and Day caste, Nameless Wolf and Messenger, decide to remove that Abyssal scouts and begin the attack. The goals are to wipe out the army, capture a Abyssal Exalt and take the Celestial Monstrance.
The battle goes smoothly, the scouts are removed with minimal effort and in the initial seconds of the battle, the abyssal generals are removed in their sleep. The battle was more of an after thought, the routed forces flee into Creation where they are put down.
In the cleanup, the Messenger receives a chilling telepathic message from the Black Sun, "While you spend your energies uselessly on battlefields that matter not, real battles occur. You, traitor, will fall; the true battle is for Whitewall and the Holy Road, which are now mine! Your ineptitude is easily guided and you fight unimportant battles and will lose the War. Yo-Ping, Luranume and Uvanavu, the Syndics, have fallen before me. You lose."
The Practitioner quickly dispatched a sorcerous message to Leaf asking for word of Whitewall…
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