Scene #5527:

Owner	Pose
Miari	Miari hasn't any idea what exactly an Exalt of Autochthon would be like, and so she's picked one of the normal tables in the furthest corners far from prying eyes. The area glimmers with a faint aura of sorcery that obscures sounds and lip movements to ensure privacy... whether her own work, or something she paid for here, is hard to say. But she's given the table number and is seated at it, dressed in her finest emerald-and-green kimono, this one of sleek and vibrant Essence Silk from the spirit-spiders. She's redone her hair and added a delicate Orichalcum Dragon Tear Tiara with an ordinary, but deftly cut emerald set in its hearthstone socket. All things considered, she'd come off as Shogunate-era aristocracy in a heartbeat to anyone familiar with the fashion. But she's seated on the edge of her chair, hands on her knees, and is nervously fidgeting as hundreds of thoughts and feelings disrupt her composure...
All-Seeing Eye	---Somewhere in Creation--- "A sorceress named Miari," says All-Seeing Eye, standing before a desk. On the other side of the desk sits the local head of the Olgotary, a short, stocky old man with a bushy gray mustache and a buzzcut. The Exalt continues. "Naturally," he says with a little smile and a flourish of the hand, "I insisted on neutral ground for the meeting." "Good," says the local government representative, whose nameplate is obscured by the Exalt standing before him. "Hopefully it's of no concern. We've enough problems as is..." "Oh, don't be such a pessimist! If there's a problem, I'll have it solved before the next work shift. Now--I should be off!" He turns and opens the door, exiting the office before the official can protest. ---The Bar and Grill at the Edge of the Multiverse--- "Ah!" A sudden exclamation of surprise escapes the Exalt. He was expecting to have to research this matter to find the location of this place, but it seems there's powerful magic at play here. Simply by thinking about it, he appears to have been brought here. How convenient! It's been five thousand years since Autochthon left Creation, and anyone who's read the Tome of the Great Maker knows it wasn't on the best of terms. Hence his hesitance to meet at Glorcrim or in Creation--and also hence his use of Integrated Artifact Transmogrifier. He appears human, to those without the senses to know better. Like Miari, he, too, has a taste for fine clothing. To the average, non-Exalted eye, he's dressed like a fancy gunslinger, minus the guns and gunbelt. A black long coat a shade or two lighter than his long black hair, inlaid with gold silk to contrast the red vest beneath and complement the gold eyes above. He approaches the table number. "Miari of Melekin, I presume?" The Chosen extends a hand in greeting.
Miari	Having her name called by such a smooth voice from nearby brings warmth to Miari's cheeks! She turns in her chair and gives Eye a very UN-impressively dumb look... that only lasts for about two seconds before her higher brain functions resume function and her composure SNAPS back into place. A warm but eager smile. She stands and gestures at the opposing chair from her. "I am she! Thank you for meeting me on such short notice." The hand sweeps towards his a moment later and firmly grasps it. Though, this just causes the blush to return ever so briefly. "Not what I expected from someone claiming to be Chosen of Autochthon! Expected more... gears and metal. You have me pleasantly surprised. All-Seeing Eye, was it? Is that some form of codename...?"
All-Seeing Eye	The rosy cheeked sorceror's reaction to his appearance draws a pleased smile from Eye, a slight upturn of the lips with a bit of a spark in those golden eyes. His grip is gentle, but firm as she shakes hands with her, grasp lingering for just a second as he pulls away to take a seat. "Oh, the pleasure is /all/ mine," he says, his dulcet tenor voice adding a certain sweetness to the undoubtedly coy remark. Indeed, though some citizens don't mind the sight, sometimes even he himself prefers his appearance without Charms. "We're created intimately aware of who we are--so, All-Seeing Eye is my name, my designation, and my descriptor. But don't let that intimidate you, dear!" The Exalt makes a little motion with his hand, a dismissive flick of the wrist, as if to banish any concern like a lingering pest. "You're not terribly far away in your guess--we are his creations, after all! But... I thought you might appreciate something more... familiar, hmm?~" He giggles, a musical, disarming sound just as animated as the rest of his behavior. As his coquettish tittering fades, he leans in closer, resting his chin upon a hand, as if to fawn over Miari. Sweetly, he asks, "Now, what's this I hear about Autochthon's design being twisted? We tend to take that very seriously."
Miari	Miari coughs embarassedly into her palm after a few moments of gobsmacked staring. Seems she is a little weak to such things. It isn't as though her demon horde is good at personal interaction! "Ah. Right to business, then? Right away I can see a full investigation of the society Autochthon has created lead to... you were... 'created?' But... rm. To business. I've little idea of the culture and lifestyle you come from... but yes. Before he left Creation, Autochthon invented and unleashed Exaltation upon the world. Three hundred for the God of the Sun. Three hundred for the Goddess of the Moon. A score each for the Five Maidens of Fate. And the inherited bloodlines originating from the Five Elemental Dragons who now command most of Creation's territory. The Divine Flame of Exigence that allows any God to fashion a new Chosen using their own Essence. ... In the millenia since the Great Maker left, the civilization that wrongly maimed his children was overthrown and most of the wonders of the age were destroyed or buried. The Solar Exaltations were locked away somewhere... and enemies of Creation found them. They broke the seal and stole some of those blessings and twisted them. If Autochthon has returned to Creation... he needs to hear of these. Because they might come after him. And he might be able to undo what was done to them. ... have you heard of the Deathknights, All-Seeing Eye?"
All-Seeing Eye	At first, Eye listens to Miari's retelling of history with a knowing smirk--this is more or less history as the Tome of the Great Maker tells it. Indeed, it doesn't seem like he's taking it seriously at all, until she mentions his invention being twisted to suit the needs of some unknown force. Then, he sits up straight, folds his hands on the table, and fixes Miari with a curious frown. Defective Chosen? It's not a new concept--but this stranger doesn't need to know that. Nor, for that matter, does she need to know that Autochthon's been ill in recent centuries and would scarcely be able to do anything even if he /could/ hear such news. Still, the fact that she acknowledges the complicity of the Sun's chosen in the mistreatment of Autochthon's creations is promising. So, he'll at least hear her out. "I haven't. Please, continue..."
Miari	"... Hm. The Solar Exaltations were intended to be vessels of the Sun's unmatched power. Empowering warriors, scholars, leaders, and more. The best civilized humanity had to offer. But the great powers of the Underworld - the Neverborn, the Primordials slain in the great war - has gotten its claws on a large number of them. Now those Exaltations glow black as the deepest abyss, bringing unimaginable death and destruction as well as the madness of the void everywhere they go. If Autochthon has returned... the Deathknights' Masters might sense opportunity." Miari rests her chin thoughtfully in her hands, hiding the lower half of her face so only her focused eyes are returning that serious look... "Likewise... the beings who can even remotely comprehend an Exaltation to cleanse it are numbered indeed. The ancient Solars were dangerous enough when they sought to rule the world. To have perhaps a third to a half of them twisted into agents of death and destruction is completely unacceptable! ... Unfortunately, his allies in Heaven are... not taking a very visibly active role to deal with this." She pauses briefly, raising her chin up onto her fingers proper... and twitches each digit a few times nervously. "I do not expect much of this to be as clear as it should be... not until you have walked Creation and seen what the Creation-born see..." That might not be what she had intended to say there. Did she change her mind?
All-Seeing Eye	How dreadful. Claslat broke into Creation for the express purpose of saving Autochthonia from the clutches of the void. Now, it seems there's an effort by that blackness to claim this world, also. The Alchemical strokes his chin thoughtfully. "This is troubling news." Certainly, not news of the nature he'd expected, but troubling nonetheless. On the one hand, perhaps it's just deserts for the Sun that his Chosen are being corrupted so. On the other, if these Neverborn seek to do what he thinks they seek to do, it's a matter of grave concern for all of Autochthonia. "How dreadfully inconvenient." He sighs, as if he were the most put-upon of all the Chosen, going so far as to place his hand upon his forehead as one does when checking for a fever. "I /do/ thank you for bringing this news to me," he says, suddenly taking hold one of Miari's hands with both of his. "And I'll make sure it reaches the appropriate ears."
Miari	Miari's face brightens at the unexpectedly intimiate show of praise! THAT clearly wasn't expected! A few unintelligible stammers pass her lips, then... "Y-you are quite welcome... though n-none of MY curiosity has been sated. If you say Autochthon has returned... I assume it is for a matter of survival--" Miari can't seem to keep up a monologue with her hands clasped like this. It is such an incredibly unprofessional quandary! "... are you so forward with every woman you meet?" She finally singsongily quips.
All-Seeing Eye	Mischief flashes across those golden pools, and a toothy grin spreads rather quickly in response to Miari's question. In truth, he's this forward with anyone he finds interesting, in some way--but to admit that openly would spoil the fun. With a shrug of his shoulders, he casually deflects the question. "Some things I can't tell you," he says, mirth bubbling over in his voice like a teapot about to whistle. "National security, you see." "But... you're more than welcome to ask, all the same."
Miari	"Life inside a Primordial... one whose dominion isn't inducive at all to life... where the Loom of Fate cannot reach... where there is no sky, no Dragon-Blooded Empires... what is it like? When you say you are Chosen of Autochthon... what does that truly mean? You said... created?" Miari leans in forward a little, and whispers conspiratorially, "Information for information. It will take you centuries to find someone in Creation half as knowledgeable as I."
All-Seeing Eye	"Oh, it's not THAT bad. After all, that supposedly inhospitable terrain created me! One of the Great Maker's more beautiful works of art, if I do say so." Idly, he plays with his hair, twirling it around his finger as he watches the sorceror. "There's no sun, of course... virtually every aspect of the Great Maker's body serves some purpose, either for his survival or that of his subjects." "There are eight nations spread across the habitable regions, whose borders and locations change with the subconscious processes of his inscrutable mind." He picks up a napkin, tearing it into eight differently-sized pieces, spreading them around the table and moving them in seemingly random paths. "These nations are governed by a three-pronged body at national, regional and local levels, entirely by mortals. We, Autochthon's Chosen, are built by one prong of this Tripartite, when the construction of a new Champion is deemed necessary by the body as a whole." "The nations are in fierce competition with one another, sometimes even to the point of open conflict--but mostly a kind of rivalry. Each one has its own identity, and they are rumored to be the first of Autochthon's Chosen."
Miari	The boisterous manner elicits a giggle from Miari. But Miari's eyes all but ignite with interest and focus, hyper-analyzing each and every single word being offered. "En... entirely by mortals? The Chosen do not rule? ... Y-you say you are Created..." It takes a few moments of blinking before Miari gasps and sits up even straighter than before, eyes widening with shock. "... Things are VERY different in these nations!"
All-Seeing Eye	"Yes, indeed!" He beams, pride brimming within him at the mention of this society and its differences from Creation. "Both by design, and by necessity." "Of course..." He'd be foolish not to take the opportunity to get some intel on Creation, while he's here. Anything she says can always be fact-checked by scouts and spies, and if she proves to be a reliable source, Claslat might have further use of her. "I'd be remiss if I didn't ask what they're different /from./ Our worlds have been apart for so long... you say the Solar civilization is in ruins?"
Miari	"Ahh...." Miari flusteredly blinks a few times, struggling to compose her thoughts. But with an adeptness perhaps stunning for her apparent age... "The Solar and Lunar Exalted once ruled the world, guided by the Chosen of the Stars and served by those who carry the Dragon's lineage. They raised grand cities and uncovered many secrets of the world the Primordials made. But the Solar Exalted grew too certain in their power, too selfish and greedy. Too paranoid and far, FAR too detached from their mortal roots. So the Lunars fled them, the Sidereals turned the Dragon-Blooded against them and somehow sealed away the Sun's Chosen so they could not reincarnate. For, very differently than being CREATED, the Celestial Exalted are blessed from living mortal stock. A man or woman who shows their prowess and worth has the chance of drawing a free Exaltation to them and gaining the power. ... The Dragon-Blooded, meanwhile, pass their power down through lineage, but it has thinned somewhat over time." She draws in a deep breath, seemingly calming herself against the mischief, and continues with her eyes closing as she recites, "The Sidereals vanished from the eyes of the world through strange methods, leaving the Dragon-Blooded to steward thrones that they had not the enlightenment to manage. They broke apart into factions over time and warred with one another, further squandering what riches of the First Age remained. All while contesting the efforts of Luna's Chosen, who seemingly have dealings in the far corners of the world where the Wyld things roam. Yet about eight centuries ago, a double-disaster struck Creation. A Great Contagion spread from city to city, wiping out nearly every breathing thing. In this moment, SOMEHOW the Fair Folk - monsters who come from the Wyld... launched a world-wide crusade. But they were rebuffed when the woman we now call the Scarlet Empress seized an ancient superweapon of the Solar Deliberative and rained fire and fury upon the Raksha armies. She then proceeded to consolidate her power and gather up remnants of the Dragon-Blooded, forging them into the Scarlet Empire that now rules the Blessed Isle." And now Miari opens her eyes, shakes her head... "All things considered, the Scarlet Empire is just as guilty of the same mistakes as the Solars who came before them. They are just so much lesser in power that the only ones who suffer for their stupidities is mortals, not the entire world... so, now, unless you live on the Blessed Isle or are lucky enough to have a city where some of the ancient infrastructure remains, the average mortal is an uneducated brute who does backbreaking work to raise food and is likely to die of some disease or another before they reach fourty. Or war from a neighbor. Or some other calamity..."
All-Seeing Eye	It seems as though Creation is barely in any position to help Autochthonia, what with the problems it's currently suffering through. Joining the Commonwealth was therefore a fortunate decision on behalf of Claslat, if not prescient. The brunt of help will have to come from the Commonwealth, although surely some means of restoring Autochthon must exist within Creation--or at least, ample supply of magical materials. Even if Creation isn't the gold-paved utopia he and literally everyone else was hoping for, the plight of its mortals moves him. "Working just to secure one's own survival is a punishment we reserve for society's outcasts. Surely this Empire is aware of their plight--surely they've sought assistance from the Commonwealth as my nation has?" It's a subtle hint--he's not sure of this woman's intentions, so it's best to put that out there lest they prove untoward.
Miari	"The Commonwealth? If there are nations who have, that is news to me." Miari sighs exasperatedly, her shoulders bunching up. "You vastly overestimate the ability of most people to move around and communicate. Travel between towns is incredibly dangerous even for trained soldiers. Few nations trust each other, and if you say 'outside Creation' to MOST people they'll think you're talking of the Wyld and panic. There has been no huge effort on the part of any power I've heard of to beseech forces in the Multiverse. But my ears only extend a few hundred miles around Melekin!" She gives an apologetic shrug. "... I'm poised to begin fixing some of this mess though. Perhaps raise a new nation, using the power that hasn't been seen in over a thousand years." Miari here gently pries her hands out of Eye's grasp and instead folds them herself. Her skin... starts to glow softly. A hazy white-gold-orange tinge. A half-filled circle of gold gently blazes and glitters on her forehead.
All-Seeing Eye	So--in the absence of First Age technology, communication and transportation have suffered. This, coupled with the plight of the average mortal and the apparent corruption of this Scarlet Empress' regime, paints a pretty fractured image. On the plus side, that will certainly be an advantage, when the time comes for Claslat to negotiate with the powers of this world. He makes no move to stop the sorceror from removing her hands. Were it not for her specific mention of 'a thousand years,' he might simply assume she meant sorcery, and apply it to some facet of history she hadn't yet applied. But that, plus the familiar glow characteristically similar to this strange 'sunlight,' and the resemblance of that symbol upon her head to the setting, or rising sun? Eye huffs. "One of the Sun's Chosen, are you?" Hmph. If he's right in his assumption, that complicates things in a rather bothersome way. The Theomachracy will be quick to point out that the Solar Exalted were the reason Autochthon left in the first place. Hopefully, her seemingly sympathetic attitude towards the Great Maker will keep her information mostly free of doubt. "I trust your Exaltation has had maintenance since the Great Maker's departure."
Miari	"Hm." Clearly picking up on Eye's change in mood, Miari purses her lips a few times. "... the other reason I'd like to beseech Autochthon has to do with something like that." She admits. Once again a nervousness flickers in Miari's posture. Subtle muscle twitches thatonly the sharpest eyes could pick up. Ones that she can't just suppress no matter how she might try. "I do not know what records Autochthon brought with him to wherever he vanished to, but if they are detailed enough, the name 'Devon' should make my stance on the Great Maker and the Jadeborn's place in Creation clear enough. None were more incensed about what was ordered done to the Jadeborn than we of the Twilight Caste." The girl sighs and shakes her head once more as if clearing her thoughts. "They still exist, you should know. Dig deep. I can draw you a map of where... at least where some of their biggest cities WERE. Atleast some should still be inhabited. They have very little connections with surface-dwellers, of course."
All-Seeing Eye	Hmm... now, this is some history that'd require a more dedicated historian to truly verify. Perhaps a Champion with a focus as singular as this Miari's, or a Sodalt with the time and patience to go sifting through soulgems in search of answers. Of course, he /could/ always search her memories... hm... no. She'd likely interpret it as an attack, which in turn would only be a diplomatic incident with this Melekin. And asking her permission would only give her the opportunity to deceive, as these Solars are so capable of doing. Best to leave this in the hands of the Tripartite--he's no diplomat and no ambassador. "Alright!" he exclaims, suddenly chipper after that momentarily cool reaction. "I'll gladly accept your offer of a map. If it holds true, I'm sure the Tripartite would grant you an audience, perhaps even with one of Autochthon's Divine Ministers."
Miari	"Very well!" Miari reaches into her... well, it's hard to tell where exactly... but under the table... and pulls out a piece of parchment, and a jar of ink. No scholar goes without writing tools, after all! And that's when something strange happens. Her eyes half-close deep in focus... and the parchment floats from her hands and flattens perfectly in midair. The jar unscrews... and tiny streams of ink fly like bullets to splat against the material. Some of them change color in flight... In under a minute, the entire drawing surface has been rendered into a brilliant map of Creation's overall geography with major cities marked in Old Realm glyphs. Not just the human cities. Jadeborn cities from the First Age are labeled and close scrutiny of the legend shows an approximation of their underground network as it existed in the First Age... "... My knowledge of Jadeborn dealings is unfortunately very outdated. I know that some of their cities collapsed, and the tunnel network is not what it was. But not which..."