SERPENT-AND-EGG These reclusive malachite-scaled snakes never manifest without their copper eggs. Wound about those eggs and apparently about to swallow them, the serpents lie unmoving wherever Creation places them. On a moonless night, or over the course of a solar eclipse, one of these elementals may vanish from its current resting place and appear in a new one. The serpent has no conscious control over where it goes, and it ends up in a location where a dire and passionate event is about to take place. Appropriate places include a hol- low at the base of a statue commemorating a despot’s rule, just before that dictator is overthrown in rage; a burrow beneath the mansion of a famously beautiful, aging woman who’s about to murder her lovely daughter in jealousy; a hollow at the base of a hill, atop which an Abyssal will soon Exalt in agony. Upon reaching its new home, the serpent studies the surface of its egg until a vision of what’s coming coalesces in the bright copper. Then, the elemental fl icks out its tongue, smelling the local emotions. The elemental fi nds the heart of the passions that will cause the dire event and begins to whisper encouragement. Its murmurs suffuse through the area to infl uence darker and darker feelings: jealousy, fury, uncaring lust. After the event, the serpent whips up the participants into the worst possible frame of mind before departing. During any lulls the serpent can fi nd, it will try hard 110 to bring visions of its own future to the egg’s shining surface, but the serpent can’t succeed more than once every 1,000 years. These elementals once followed an earth dragon named Traditional Wisdom. In her service, they encour- aged ill events that resulted from a disregard for custom. Back then, the serpents-and-eggs invoked regret and penitence after those events, reminding humanity to respect its traditions. But Jealous Saffron Rage, a lesser dragon of fi re (see pp. 113-115), became discontented with his own servitors and began eyeing the serpents- and-eggs. He felt that Traditional Wisdom’s followers were better suited to him than to her; in jealousy and quick anger, he challenged her to a contest for them. Rather than fi ght another dragon, Traditional Wisdom offered to trade servitors peacefully. The two completed the paperwork in less than a century, and now, the serpents-and-eggs are shaped by a very dif- ferent master. A few Sidereal Exalted consider this an unfortunate change for Creation, and something that ought to be reversed—but they’ve been too busy to address such a minor matter for many, many years. Serpents-and-eggs store all their compassion in their eggs. If an egg is broken, its white jade heart (a somewhat coveted ingredient for artifacts) will be revealed, and the malachite snake will become a paragon of kindness (Compassion 5, rather than 1). However, the snake will also be unable to regain Essence or Willpower, and will die permanently at the next new moon. Summoning: A sorcerer who commands a serpent-and- egg to speak of itself will earn the elemental’s eternal (possibly vengeful) enmity. These creatures immediately forget orders to break their own eggs, and any sorcerer who breaks one herself will face the Celestial Hierarchy’s wrath (other egg breakers need merely deal with Jealous Saffron Rage). A serpent-and-egg can be compelled to move, but the serpent will be forced to swallow its egg for safekeeping while it slithers; such is unlucky, presaging a loss of harmony such as a bad harvest or the disruption of a truth-seeker’s quest. Beyond these things, a serpent-and-egg is passive and content to do as it’s bound. Usually, it’s asked to seek precognitive visions in its egg’s mirrored surface.
