Session 20230629 Blank Ford Report in Exalted: in the Age of Sorrows | World Anvil

Session 20230629 Blank Ford

General Summary

Bertrum's Journal

A Triumph Over Fae and a Challenge Met   As the enchanted vessel traversed the mystical currents, Blood on the Snow steered our course, and the vessel nestled betwixt the bosom of Blank Ford's village. Spectacular was our arrival, an effulgent display that ignited a tempest of curiosity amongst the denizens. Yet, Nightshade, a wraith in the shadows, had already slipped from our midst, her clandestine foray into the village underway.   The keen eyes of Nightshade and Lyris, like watchmen upon the ramparts, discerned secrets hidden within the huts—fae, hobgoblins, and their ilk residing within. Swiftly, Lyris imparted this knowledge to my attentive ear, unlocking the doors of perception, unveiling the truth that veiled this place.   Intriguing it was, for the hetman, the village's leader, appeared new to his appointment. A dissonance in his demeanour, his garments ill-fitted, betrayed an enigma lurking beneath. Apprehension tinged the air as the villagers, their hearts weighed by trepidation, reluctantly bore the burden of accommodating outsiders while tethered to the captivity of the fae—a cruel game dictated by unseen hands.   Resolute, we proclaimed our intent to sojourn within these confines, heading toward the sanctuary of the inn, wherein Lyris, the bard of our troupe, orchestrated a symphony of words, extolling the virtues of Blood on the Snow and his noble deeds within the realm of Ardeleth. A resonant chord struck in the hearts of those assembled, their gaze shifting toward hope in the face of adversity.
To our loyal companions, Ziggy and Zipf, sprightly pixies borne on wings of whimsy, I entrusted the task of reconnaissance, to reveal the true extent of fae influence within this town's boundaries. Meanwhile, my gaze alighted upon an elderly figure, his countenance eager for discourse. Drawn by curiosity's magnetic pull, I approached his table, prepared to receive tidings of the fae and the secrets they held.   The old man regaled me with tales of their misdeeds, the hostages they held, and their elusive leader—a flamboyant Chevalier and his two Cataphractoi companions. He whispered of their search for a mystical artifact, yet a seed of doubt was sown within my heart, suspecting that he too bore supernatural kinship, perchance a Solar Exalted. My query, though posed, was met with evasive answers, leaving the truth veiled in ambiguity. Further, he cautioned me of the Serene Monastery, warning that its facade belied its true nature. His parting words, laced with a mischievous giggle, spoke of the Chevalier's nocturnal sojourns along the canyon and a potential duel to hasten his departure from the town.   Consultations with Lyris and Nightshade ensued, culminating in a decision—a challenge laid upon Nightshade's shoulders, an act of valour that would seal the town's fate. We withdrew from the inn's embrace, setting our camp near the canyon's edge, prepared to lend our support should the need arise.
Nightshade, a spectre within nature's cloak, concealed herself amidst the shroud of foliage. The Chevalier, accompanied by his stalwart Cataphractoi, paused to behold the grandeur of the canyon and the village. At that moment, Nightshade emerged from obscurity, issuing forth a challenge that would determine the fate of this town.   The terms were set, the gauntlet thrown—this battle of honour would wage until submission or death, its prize the town's emancipation. The Chevalier, daring to request the spoils of victory should he prevail, coveting Mufasa and our pixie companions. Yet Nightshade, with resolute spirit, spurned these demands, unyielding in her conviction. Reluctantly, the Chevalier consented to the terms, the duel commencing forthwith.   In a flurry of motion, Nightshade's blade struck with unyielding might, a resounding blow upon the Chevalier's form. The Cataphractoi, in a desperate ploy to intervene, wove their words, attempting to distract Nightshade from her purpose. But the damage was done, the Chevalier keenly aware of his own inadequacy, his mettle no match for Nightshade's prowess. With a surrender as swift as the setting sun, he yielded, honouring the agreement struck, and the yoke of his presence lifted from the town.
Amidst the foliage, hidden from mortal sight, the old man from the inn indulged in a mischievous giggle. Summoning forth a colossal insect, he soared aloft, departing into the realm of shadows. The Chevalier, betrayed, denounced him as "Peace of Ages," his once loyal confidant now revealed as a turncoat.   Returning to the inn, triumphant in our endeavours, the village embraced us as liberators, their spirits alight with newfound freedom. Blood on the Snow, celebrated as the harbinger of change, bore the weight of their gratitude upon his shoulders.   And now, we await with bated breath the arrival of the Regent from Fallen Lapis, his presence poised to cascade ripples of change across our path. In this tapestry of destiny, where forces unseen guide our steps, we stand united, a fellowship forged through trials untold, ready to confront whatever lies on the horizon, our hearts resolute and our spirits undeterred.
Your   B. B. of the Unconquered Sun
Report Date
29 Jun 2023
Secondary Location
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