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Chapter One: Undercover Missions

‘Tell me again what we’re doing?’
Merick sighed as Hideomi asked the question for what seemed like the hundredth time.  He wondered briefly why it was always him Hideomi asked. 
‘We are going, my large friend, to a village called Northpoint.  There’s a mortal sorcerer living there who Rishomen thinks might try to summon a demon using a meteorite he’s found.  We have to talk him out of the summoning, and get the meteorite.’
‘And why is that?’
Merick sighed again, but Takashi had worked out how to placate Hideomi.  ‘Because Rishomen’s going to make some powerful weaponry from the metal.’ 
This was, indeed, incentive enough for the large warrior.  They continued on their way northwards, carefully avoiding the large, bustling city of Rubylak.  The city was ruled, like most of the rest of the world, by the Empire of the Dragon-Blooded, Exalted beings less powerful than Solars but far more numerous and presently the dominant race.  The Dragon-Blooded had decreed Solars to be anathema, false Gods to be feared and persecuted, for which reason they had created the Wyld Hunt.  Every Solar’s nightmare. 
The circle soon saw Northpoint, set on a hill not far away.  It seemed a fairly normal sort of village: a few houses and other buildings clustered around a shrine of the Immaculate Order, the religion the Dragon-Blooded had created for themselves.  The only thing of any real note was a tower, about three storeys high, close to the middle of the village.  This, surely, was the dwelling place of Marten, the mage whom they were going to see. 
As they drew closer, it dawned upon the circle that all was not well in the village.  An air of grim determination was upon the villagers, who were all marching in the same direction, carrying very make-shift weapons: the Solars saw pitchforks, scythes, rolling pins and a few things none of them could even name but which appeared somewhat agricultural.  Serena glanced at the others, then went to speak to a man at the back who was clutching a shovel.
‘What’s going on here, sir?’
The man looked at her, his expression somewhat suspicious.  These people were very well dressed to be seen around here.
‘The village is under attack.  A clan of barbarians from the north is approaching.  Please, any help you could give us we would very much appreciate.’
Turning back to the others, Serena reported what she had heard.  Her mind was in conflict over what to do for the best.  She desperately wanted to help the villagers, but Rishomen had impressed on them before they had left the importance of remaining discreet and not drawing attention to themselves, which would surely happen if they began fighting.
Merick and Takashi similarly agonised over the problem, but Hideomi knew exactly what to do. 
‘If Solars will not protect these people, who will?  Besides, could you live with yourself, knowing that you’d let innocent people die?  I will fight even if you will not.’  With that, he turned and jogged to the front of the mob.
The rest of the circle shrugged, grinned sheepishly and followed.  Hideomi had a very direct way of thinking that they all envied. 
Marching at the front they came across the headman of the village, who they gathered was an army veteran: he was the only one there carrying a real weapon: an old but very serviceable broadsword.  He bore signs of past battles: many old scars on his face, and a slightly haunted expression in his eyes.  He looked at the newcomers just as suspiciously as the rest of the crowd. 
‘What do you want, strangers?’  His manner was abrupt, his voice curt. 
‘We only want to help in the fight.  We won’t get in the way,’ Serena said, her voice soft and placating.  She stayed at the front of the crowd with Merick, while Hideomi and Takashi ran on ahead, the plan being to have made short work of the majority of the barbarians before the villagers arrived.  Serena strung her Power Bow, trying hard to avoid the looks she was getting from the villagers: only the Exalted could use magical weapons. 

Takashi paused at the brow of the hill and surveyed the scene.  There were about thirty barbarians, screaming at the top of their voices, their near-naked bodies painted with spirals and patterns in vivid blue.  They carried a variety of weapons, including quarterstaves and broadswords, but mostly they had axes.  Big axes.  Takashi hesitated for a moment, saw Hideomi charging up behind him, and decided a pincer movement was called for.  He retreated until he was out of sight of the attacking barbarians, then ran around until he judged he was nearer their rear.  Then he drew his twin Hookswords, Sun and Moon.
He burst into the barbarians, who for some reason were all facing towards him.  Takashi spun and whirled, calling on his extensive Martial Arts training, his swords biting into wood, metal and flesh.  At one point he spotted, some distance away, the reason for the barbarians’ change of direction: Hideomi, his fearsome visage aglow with Essence expended in the fight.  Around him, barbarians he hadn’t even touched dropped dead with arrows through their throats.  He grinned: Serena was one hell of an archer.  He wondered vaguely, as he cut down yet another warrior, what Merick was doing. 

Merick was nervous.  He was constantly nervous, to a greater or lesser extent.  Right now he was nervous of the frightened look the halted villagers were giving him and his companions and he was nervous of the fact that he was rapidly losing sight of his comrades in the writhing mass of bodies. 
The problem was that, however well Takashi and Hideomi fought, the barbarians were all so crazed and frenzied that even when they were severely wounded, they continued to press the embattled Solars.  Takashi and Hideomi were very good at what they did, but even they had limits.  It came around the time when someone cut off their heads.  The sooner this battle ended, the better. 
As Merick thought, his own familiar, a highly intelligent Mosphid named Silkwing, nuzzled his cheek from his perch on his shoulder, crooning lovingly.  Merick stroked the little creature somewhat distractedly, trying to decide what to do next. 
One of the things he was most nervous of was himself, and in particular his new-found sorcerous abilities.  His powers took a lot of getting used to and he was still not very used to them, even though he had spent the time while his Circle-mates were finding their ancient treasures training in magic with Rishomen.  He looked at Serena, standing not too far away: in the short time he had known her he had come to think of her as a calm and stable presence who would always offer good advice, but right now her whole being was concentrated on taking down barbarians; from here Merick could see the sweat trickling down her face.  No help there.
Instead, he looked into the undying sun, round and bright above him, and prayed to his God, asking what to do.  He closed his eyes, feeling the heat bathe his face and it’s light caress his soul.  A small sound made him glance at the almost silent crowd behind him.  They were all staring at him, their expressions puzzled, hopeful, beseeching and, above all, expectant.  There was no way that he was going to let these people down.  This had to end.  Now.
He turned back towards the fight and stood facing it, his eyes closed, his hands together in front of him.  His lips moved rapidly as he focused his entire being on the spell he was casting.  The villagers saw first the Caste-mark on his forehead, then the air around him shine white with gold sparks dancing within it as he expended Essence.  Suddenly he opened his eyes and spread his arms wide, his anima flaring blindingly.  All around him came the fluttering of tiny wings as small black butterflies, hundreds of them, appeared around the glowing Solar.  Silkwing took flight in alarm, circling his master’s head rapidly. 
In a sudden gesture Merick thrust his arms forward, and the butterflies rushed forward.  A thousand shards of super-sharp black glass flew towards the battle below with the whisper of glass wings as the Death of Obsidian Butterflies took flight. 
Serena, who had stopped firing arrows, looked at the sweating Merick, one eyebrow raised sardonically. 
‘Overkill much?’

When the dust settled, Hideomi surveyed the scene.  Using his super-human abilities, he had been able to avoid being hit by any of the lethal lepidopterans, but he was mildly annoyed that his circle-mate had denied him the rest of the fight.  Sighing, he began to walk back towards the villagers, when he noticed Takashi a little way away.
The ninja was lying on the floor and groaning.  Hideomi pulled him to his feet, and saw that Takashi had not been so fortunate when the spell had been cast: a single butterfly, perfect in every detail, was embedded in his upper arm.  Serena came down to meet them. 
‘Where is he?’ growled Takashi.  ‘Where is that idiot?  He’s supposed to be on our side!’
As ever, Serena acted as the impartial, while Hideomi laughed out loud (much to Takashi’s annoyance).  ‘Look, he did at least get rid of the barbarians.  And, if it makes you feel any better, Merick’s going to miss lunch: the headman said they would feed us, but none of the villagers can look at Merick, his anima’s burning so bright.  He’ s sitting in a field and waiting for it to fade off. 
Takashi gave a good-humoured chuckle, then became more serious.  ‘Haven’t we blown our cover?  They must have realised by now.’
Serena shook her head.  ‘They know we’re Exalted, but they think we’re either unusual Dragon-Blooded or Sidereals.  Remember, this is something of a backwater.  They just don’t get that many Exalted around here.’
‘I don’t know why.  It’s lovely.  Fresh air, hospitality, barbarians to kill… what could be better?’ Hideomi remarked.  Takashi and Serena laughed, and together the three Solars walked back towards the villagers. 


08/03/04  --PHL4IVI3R1D3R

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