Posts for DBO: War for the Caul
This message was last updated by the GM at 01:16, Sun 16 Aug 2020.

The sage sat cross-legged in the center of a clearing, far from the etched walls of Faxai-on-the-Caul. This was not the first time he had made this journey, and it was far from the last. Before him rested a pool of water, filling a golden bowl nearly to the brim. Now and then, the breeze lightly caught its surface, spreading a tell-tale ripple one direction or another. From the breeze, he felt Essence; to where the water pulled, he felt Essence. The air around him was still and silent; serene in the ultimate. No songbird dared interrupt the will of this Dragon-Blooded, or the spirits dancing at the periphery of vision. No creature disrupted the harmony of the forest. In fact, the only sound piercing the calm was a low growl, an angry snarl, constant and circling the clearing.

Perhaps it was this very calm that rendered it unremarkable when a lone twig cracked under something's heel. Perhaps the ordinary absence of the songbird's calls masked their disappearance as the blade found its throat. And perhaps it was his focus on the lunging wolf that rendered the second sound, the whistle of a blade run through the air, nearly fatal.

The third sound to break the calm resonated in three parts. A splash of water displacing onto grass and stone; a cry as the wolf's unnatural jaws found the arm of its quarry; a grating of metal on razor-sharp jade as the sorcerer's prayer bowl resumed its function as a shield, the Essence of meditation guttering out like so much lifeblood in the same instant. Yet the motion was not perfect. For but a moment, the green jade rested wedged between the shield and its victim's cheek. There was a flash of panic as the light bespoke its toll, but the injury was not fatal. The dread left as it came, replaced with pain.

In the next moment, the blade was flicked aside. The wolf's jaws savaged the assassin's arm, a swift jab of the disc crushed the woman's windpipe, a quick scan of the forest revealed no immediate danger - but such was never the case in Creation. As the shadows encircled on the intruder, the shaman knelt solemnly, offering a small forgiveness for his disturbance. With a whirl of his cloak he circled to his feet, striding swiftly towards his company awaiting nearby. He would claim no treasure and spill no more light here; the spirits would decide what to claim for his transgression, or give him as penance for upholding the serenity of their glade.

"I thought I told you to secure a perimeter," the sorcerer-general's words cut through the quiet. At once, a dozen suits of armor rattled to life, rushing to secure flanks in the withdrawal and stabilize their leader's wound.

His commander Mirza replied quickly, walking and talking, "My apologies, sir - you advised discretion in regards to your affairs in the glade, and no disturbance was detected or reported." He sighed; it was not their fault the assassin's feet made no sound, that her cloak matched the undergrowth and the forest parted for her passage. At a whistle's report, a dozen more men collapsed upon them, and they returned to Faxai to give their report.

----

Masahiko pushed open the teahouse door, and collapsed in a heap, a small tile clattering across the floor to hit the boot of Master Shun. Heads turned and Claws in green armor rushed to his aid, but the sage strode across the room, lifting a hand, and knelt before the boy to inspect his wound. What had once been a gash glowing red was now surrounded with a vibrant pattern of green, which pulsed with the blush of life.

"Making the friends you were hoping for?" came the mentor's chiding remark.

"You could say that," came Avery's sheepish admission.

Unbeknownst to all, a familiar wolf padded up, revealing itself in the material and licking his cheek. Others would hear of his deeds and see his actions in time. This one was present to witness the sage's supplications and respect for the unbroken earth, to appreciate his trust and resolve against the snarling of its threat, and to fail to protect him in a time of need. For this, he had earned Hachiko's loyalty.

----

The day was fair, warm and temperate if not damp in the wake of recent storms. Dense woods gave way to the rolling hills of a newly established structure, castle-like in scale, streaming with banners and bustling with activity. Today was a momentous day, and there was an energy in the air; a readiness for commencement. Fortifications were manned here, distant and deep chanting laid in wards and servitors there. A military parade was being practiced out in the fields, mystical lights flickered from the spires now and then. There was a commotion coming from within a wing cast in blue stone; many voices were gathered here today, talking amongst themselves as they awaited a speech. Modest minstrels and exotic refreshments garnished the scene, while a podium awaited its speaker. He was not early, but he was timely.

= = = =

Avery took to the stage, clearing his throat, adjusting his mantle, and situating his armor comfortably under his flowing, traditional blue garb. The satrap normally wore green to suit her element, and so too would he; blue symbolized calm, subtlety, and discernment, as well as higher themes - the word captured in print, the spiritual harmony binding them together; Serenity itself. A white brooch with the Guild of Serenity's mon fixed his cloak this afternoon, a solemn symbol of vigilance and resolution for the impending war. As he reached the lectern, stood before the crowd, looked out over his guests... Avery felt his nerves fraying, while Masahiko felt determination, certainty, the fruition of seven months of planning. As like groups resolved chatter in their respective sections of the room, all eyes came to rest on him. And without hesitation, Masahiko spoke. His voice was certain, and as his emotions soared, so too did the boom of his voice, resolute and clear, echoing throughout the chamber.

"Ten thousand dragons fight as one. This is the spirit of our people, our espirit de corps, rising as a banner above the flames of war. That we may never lose the light, may never give in to the darkness of the Anathema, 'til our dying breaths. In these words are we united, standing as one against the tide." Masahiko looked proud, the politicians and strategists looked proud, light applause echoed briefly in the spacious chamber. There was a pause, and a shift of tone.

"But these are not our words." Avery's voice came through less thunderous, and his eyes scanned the center of the crowd, where many of the players were seated. He rested them a moment, absorbing the cognitive dissonance... and then opened them with a new conviction. "'I pledge allegiance, to the Flag, of the United States of America.'" He let the words sink in, let the NPCs tune out as they always do. "At least, I do. Some of you hail from Europe and the Americas, some from Asia and Australia, some from Africa and the Middle East. This is no code, no secret society we are a part of; we are the players of the War for the Caul. In these halls, you need not pretend, as you have done every single day for two-hundred and twenty-four days. Here, in these halls, we may be ourselves; here, we are as one; here, we embrace Serenity. In these words are we united." In this moment, he felt more connected than ever - to his Hearth, to Tepet Nasir and Little Bear, to all the friends he'd made along the way. This was everyone's moment; he only gave it a voice.

As he stood there, trembling at the podium, the tone settled. The room came back alive, the NPCs detecting the show of support and solidarity with his comments. They clapped at whatever was said, and as quickly as it had left, play resumed.

= = = =

On to business, the pair gathered themselves and spoke as one. "By now, the function of the College should be no mystery. This outpost will serve as a place of mentorship and teaching, a planning area for the Crusade, a staging point for expeditions and sorcerous work, a sanctuary of Safe Ground for adventurers and the wounded, a place to share information vital to our success, and a haven to drop pretenses and speak as peers. This agenda may evolve with new teaching staff and curricula, but the core will remain the same: this is a safe place where we will coordinate our efforts and share our resources to succeed in the War for the Caul."

"I will be working in concert with fellow Princes of the Earth to establish a network of duly aspected training sites, where our humble College may not suffice to teach. I will share in the responsibility for students at these sites, as we all share in their blessings. I will ensure the safety and privacy of all within these halls. I will offer the Manse as peaceful ground for any who would make audience with the Dragon-Blooded host. I will champion the interests of the Crusade throughout the Caul, offering my Manse in whatever service it can provide. And I will find all of us a way out of this ceaseless war. I swear to uphold all these and more, the duties of my station."

With this, he rested his eyes on the center of the audience where his trusted friends, confidants and informants were seated. "I, Avery Kennan," he began, then turned his gaze to the left to the militarists and political leaders, "Burano Namika Masahiko," and lastly he cast a glance to the right for the dignitaries, sorcerers, spiritualists and the demateralized, "Gift that Parts the Heavens, do formally establish this College of Serenity, in the mutual interest of player and Realm alike. May we ever walk in the favor of the Dragons, and may we all live long and prosper." At this, he made an (un)familiar hand gesture, and drew it down into a deep bow.

= = = =

With his segment subsided, and a weight off his shoulders, the big day commenced. Everywhere within the Manse was a flurry of entertainment, activity, enrollment, and the closure of seven long months of preparations. Magically secured private meetings were held immediately, charts were rolled out on war tables, and books from the library rapidly found new homes. Finally, the gears in the war machine began to turn. Finally, trust in one another could be formed through a common vision.

And then word came up that a regiment was marching on the Manse, as the sky began to darken and redden...