[Exalted] You Bunch of (Plot) Hookers!

[captmadjaq]

@Cap: You can just do one post when quoting; just merge 'em into one post.
An Unsurpassed Sanxian just adds two successes to a roll, it doesn't actually give you the requisite dots. In any situation you make a Performance roll to perform with it, it adds successes. In any other situation, it's basically a very durable club made from the soul of a very unfortunate musician. It doesn't allow you to qualify for anything.


Edit:


@Skrakes: Go ahead and take the charms.

I meant that if using the martial arts, would the bonuses the Unsurpassed Sanxian provides be applicable to the martial arts style? Meaning, if my character were attack, would it boost her attack?

 

[captmadjaq]

@Cap: You can just do one post when quoting; just merge 'em into one post.
An Unsurpassed Sanxian just adds two successes to a roll, it doesn't actually give you the requisite dots. In any situation you make a Performance roll to perform with it, it adds successes. In any other situation, it's basically a very durable club made from the soul of a very unfortunate musician. It doesn't allow you to qualify for anything.


Edit:


@Skrakes: Go ahead and take the charms.

I meant that if using the martial arts, would the bonuses the Unsurpassed Sanxian provides be applicable to the martial arts style? Meaning, if my character were attack, would it boost her, I guess, attack?

 

[Skrakes]

How hardassed are we being about ammunition? Book says that Plasma Repeaters have hard-to-find ammo.

 

[Brekkir]

I guess that the South (homeland of firearms in Exalted) will make it easier to acquire such ammunition.


Can they be recreated by thaumaturgy? If so, I suppose my Twilight could take the relevant procedure/degree.


I'll be thinking about a concept. I'm tempted to make a former Paragon citizen, who decided not to renew his oath to the Perfect after Exalting (or alternatively, who chose exile rather than taking the oath when reaching adulthood, and Exalted after adventuring).

 

[Skrakes]

Book sez that you need to a particular thaumaturgic ritual to make Repeater ammo.

Ammunition fuel pellets suffi cient to fully reload either weapon cost Resources 3' date=' but can be purchased only in a large metropolis. Alternatively, characters versed in the thaumaturgical Art of Alchemy can distill the fuel themselves with a ritual (see Exalted, p. 138, for thaumaturgy ritual rules): Alchemical Weapon Fuel (2, Int, 4, 3 hours): Creates enough ammunition to fully refuel a personal alchemical fire weapon of any type.[/quote']

 

[Tableface]

Book sez that you need to a particular thaumaturgic ritual to make Repeater ammo.

Ammunition fuel pellets suffi cient to fully reload either weapon cost Resources 3' date=' but can be purchased only in a large metropolis. Alternatively, characters versed in the thaumaturgical Art of Alchemy can distill the fuel themselves with a ritual (see Exalted, p. 138, for thaumaturgy ritual rules): Alchemical Weapon Fuel (2, Int, 4, 3 hours): Creates enough ammunition to fully refuel a personal alchemical fire weapon of any type.[/quote']

And as an essence-user you can just blow motes to substitute for the resources cost of making it. I'm not sure how that works, but it does!

 

[Axelgear]

@capt: Unless the attack itself calls for a Performance roll, no, it wouldn't. You could definitely call it a stunt and maybe get bonus dice for that but you wouldn't add the successes.


Also, there's an edit button on your post. PLEASE use it in future.


@Skrakes: To be honest, the rules as written make any expenses rather easily obviated: Exalted can spend motes to reduce the Resources cost of rituals. You can just spend a few extra motes and turn ordinary firedust or even sand and rocks into ammunition. Stunt in lines like "I coax out the tiniest grains of fire essence found even in the commonest of sand" and you're good.


If you prefer to buy them, I'd rule that, as with Firedust, they, and the ritual, cost 1 dot less in the South than elsewhere in Creation; firedust is pretty cheap there. However, you're not going to find them outside of any major cities except on the rarest of occasions, so it'd likely be better to learn to do it yourself.

 

[Brekkir]

You can buy the procedure for 1 xp, and do them yourself. You don't need the full degree, only IIRC Occult at 1. Of course more dice is better.

 

[Skrakes]

I need to make a difficulty 4 roll, which calls for about 8 dice on average. Rather than risk running out of ammo, I'm saying my PC was an apprentice thaumaturge before Exalting, and the Exaltification process dialed it up high enough to make that. So it's a good thing -- gave me another place to throw my dots and some flavorful backstory. And hey, if we ever need some thaumaturgy I'm your guy.


Edit: Or I could invite a friend to play my character's Lunar, who might play a No Moon with thaumaturgy. If that's OK with Axl, of course.

 

[Axelgear]

Your friend and I already spoke. They're free to submit their Lunar concept. Merry Christmas, everyone!

 

[cyl]

Considering how much fun I'm having with Skyrim, and the fact that only a few things (like the lack of food the fauna, the terrain and the terrible weather) can make a solar feel the pain of an average man, I'll go for North... because it's only when you've endured the harsh environment that you can actually enjoy the simple pleasures of civilization :wink:

 

[xarvh]

Love the game concept, and would be definitely in for a game, but am very bad at creating decent chars in a void.


What castes are not covered yet?


EDIT: all but Dawn and Eclipse.


I can do both.


ST, do we have any Dawn Fix in place?

 

[Axelgear]

Chargen is errata'd, so we're using the Dawn Fix.


Also, to the players who have PMed me their sheets already, thank you. I'll be going over them shortly.

 

[Arynne]

What artifacts do you allow in-game? I've been watching too much anime and now have a weird craving to play a mech pilot...

 

[xarvh]

I read a book about real events and got inspired for a Dawn Caste...


It is a badly written draft suffered down in a night of headache, needs some polish.


-----


"I always wanted to be a hero.


I knew I had to protect my country.


We had many enemies who worshiped evil Gods... They attacked our land.


So I became a soldier.


And I was good at it.


We fought many battles at Fort Bear, my talent blossomed and shined quickly.


I knew how to handle a sword.


I knew to fight side by side with my fellow soldiers, my brothers.


And I knew very well how to kill.


Or so I thought.


I was barely a recruit, but they wanted me in Turika, a small outpost.


Our army had rammed our enemies badly there.


It was just death there, they told me.


It was true.


Turika was just a dead hollow, burned and left to crumble, dead, dark, silent.


Then they called me in a room that reeked sweat and blood.


There was an officer and a prisoner; the prisoner was bound and gagged.


I could not discern the abuses he suffered, but he was still breathing.


Without any introduction, the officer gestured at the prisoner.


"Kill him."


I froze for too long a time.


My hand could not move to my dagger.


Unarmed? Subdued? Beaten?


"I.. I can't!" I told him.


The officer's blade cut the prisoner's throat, and then went straight to mine.


"You fucking I'm uncultured!


Where the hell do you think you are!?


I am not killing you just not to waste time."


My eyes looked at the prisoner, behind us, gurgling in his own blood.


The officer punched me so hard I took two steps back.


I was scared, confused.


"Next."


The door opened, and another prisoner came in.


He was just a boy.


"Kill him".


I could barely stand on my feet, I was shocked.


I looked at him.. Just as my swing began, he uttered just a few words, in Icetongue.


"I did nothing... Please, don't kill me."


My blow hit him poorly, and he started to scream in pain, writhing on the floor, spraying blood.


The screams scared me even more, I freaked out and just to stop it I hit him again.


And again.


And again.


Then, soaked in the blood of an innocent, I started to realize what I had done.


I always wanted to be a hero...


For the first time in my life, I considered bringing myself against an order.


...


As fast as I rebelled, as fast and brutally they made an example of me.


They burned my skin, ripped my nails, tortured me senseless and threw me naked in a hole in the ground, in the cold.


But I didn't feel it.


I felt anger for having been lied to, for having been used.


And I felt shame, I felt I did something I could never atone for.


For the first time, I realized that not all orders are righteous.


For the first time, I started to realize that the war I was fighting was not necessarily just.


Who really were my enemies?


What did they want?


Why were they fighting?


...


What did we really do to them?


Then, as my limbs grew stiffer, a soft darkness swallowed me.


It was just like a dream, it didn't make sense.


"Such a failure...


Pity!


But after all, life is such a misery.


Humans can be so cruel to each other...


Isn't it?"


"It is.


Are you Death?"


"Ah! I am.


But fear not.


In mortality there is the peaceful bliss.


As men bring each other to Me, they bring each other to peace.


You will soon experience this.


Unless you join me."


"You want me.


But what for?"


"You will help me end this..


All of this..."


"All... Pain?"


"Yes!"


"Cruelty?"


"Yes!"


"Honor?"


"Yes!"


"Life?"


"Yes!"


"...to bring peace?"


"YES!"


"...


You want Turika.


Let me die."


"Such talent... Such a waste.


Come with me. Wield for me the power that once belonged to the Heavens!


You will be my unstoppable avatar of War!


Great among the greatest!"


Suddenly I felt anger.


Someone was trying to use me again, to turn me into a murderer.


"My apologies, it's cold and I am out of saliva."


"Excuse me?"


My saliva reached Death straight in the face.


"I always wanted to be a hero. I never cared to be great."


Death didn't like it.


"YOU ARE JUST A PITIFUL COWARD.


YOU COULDN'T SQUASH A BUG!


DIE! DIE AS YOU WISH!


...


I will make sure your death will be an eternity of torment!"


The threat sounded hollow, powerless.


I was feeling at peace with my choice, at least I could die without tainting myself further.


Then the dream faded into numbness.


But in numbness, a small candle was lit, and someone whispered to me.


"By evil Unconquered."


My body shook, and the whisper became fire.


My fingers dug deep in the walls of the hole, and pulled me up, and up.


The guards started screaming.


One tried to strike me, I cracked his neck and my right hand shoot directly for his dagger.


I quickly beheaded the guard at his side, and seized a second dagger.


Icrossed the courtyard and reached for the torture room, killing every soldier in my path.


Shimmering in golden light, I shattered the door, surprised the two officers within and impaled them to the wall, one blade each.


A God had came to save his enemies.


Enemies that he had fought and killed with joy.


Enemies that he had murdered when defenseless, when innocent.


Enemies that his beloved country had humiliated and broken soo deeply that they could not even notice the miraculous rescue.


Was I expecting gratitude?


I brought with me all those that could walk.


I brought them to what was left of their families, and then left in shame.


For where, I don't know.


I have a lot of good to do to atone for what I did.


I always wanted to be a hero, after all."

 

[Arynne]

*sigh*


I have no ideas for playing an Eclipse Caste, and that's all that's left, so I guess I'll...


...unless...


...how do you feel about mutants?


Or the crafted races?


I have a sudden mental picture of a young woman with wings -- not a shapechanger, the wings are permanent -- who works as a messenger or a performer of some kind, traveling between the cities of the South. Perhaps she is a runaway from the airfolk enclave in the Summer Mountains. Perhaps her origins are more mysterious...

 

[Axelgear]

We have at least 13 votes up there at the top and I'm taking six people at the absolute most. Please, please, please do not constrain yourself with thinking along the lines of "I'll take what's left" because I will not be taking everyone. If you want to submit a Person of the Air, feel free to do so, but make it something other than "Here's my character and also they have wings".


As for what artifacts I allow, I have no reason to disallow things like warstriders outright but I'm not the sort of ST who lets people just get away with having a giant orichalcum war-machine and not having consequences for it. Warstriders are enormous mechanical monstrosities that require a lot of maintenance, a lot of Essence, and can't exactly be easily hidden; riding a giant orichalcum one around might as well be waving a sign that says "Wyld Hunt, please come kill me because I have grown tired of living".


Note that all these reasons for why it would be extremely sensible to not do this are also not me saying no. If you can provide justification as to why this fits and is sufficiently awesome (and why it won't ruin the game for everyone else), then, by all means, have fun with it. Flipping the Realm the orichalcum-plated magitech bird is fine with me if it's what you want to do. I do not shy away from crazy, as should be obvious when STing a game where the protagonists who can throw mountains into the Sun are considered "mid-tier".


Just always remember that it's about having fun and is, most of all, a team sport. If you can't think of an adequate way to ensure that your super duper toy won't wreck it for everyone else, I'm not going to either, and that could cost you a place.

 

[Arynne]

THE DAWN


People throughout the South and East know of Ashen Lightning, the gigantic armored warrior, who defends villages from the Fair Folk or Wyld barbarians and then vanishes before the Wyld Hunt arrives. No one has seen the hero’s true face, but a few claim that Ashen Lightning speaks with the clear voice of a young woman…though others insist the voice they heard was deep, booming and male. Some say the giant is no more than a foul Anathema with a stolen warstrider -- yet Ashen Lightning moves with a grace and precision totally unlike the lumbering movements of the Realm’s jade war machines, and the all-concealing armor is bright gold, like the Unconquered Sun himself come to earth. So the debate continues, with even those rescued by Ashen Lightning uncertain whether their savior is god or demon.


The truth, as always, is both simpler and more complicated.


Once upon a time, there was a small kingdom ruled by three harsh gods. They outlawed all other worship in their land, and even young children offered them prayer several times a day. The inhabitants were renowned miners and metalworkers, though the residues from their labor fouled the river. The gods forbade their subjects to stop polluting the river, for they were bitter enemies of the local water elementals and rejoiced to see their domain poisoned.


One summer’s day, a young girl from a small village went hunting, and followed a small stream into a part of the forest her parents and the village priest had warned her to avoid. The ground gave way beneath her and she tumbled into a deep crevasse in the earth; the fall knocked her unconscious, and when she awoke it was to find herself in a strange cavern. The earth there seemed more like petrified bone than mud or rock: jagged ivory protrusions jutted from the walls, and the stone was splotched with blue and violet as if bruised.


Exploring further into the cave, the girl found a titanic armored figure encased in mud and roots. Too curious to be really afraid, she climbed up its chest till she came to a hollow space of some kind, which she entered. No sooner had she done so than a man appeared -- the most beautiful man the dazzled girl had ever seen, made of liquid gold -- and began speaking to her urgently in an unknown tongue.


The girl, whose name was Ash, visited the “metal man†many, many times over the next few years. She learned to speak the language of the man who besought her to help him, as well as his name: Lightning from Heaven. She cut away the roots and dug the mud from his limbs; she brought him the tools and supplies he asked for, though she often had to steal them. Under his direction she began repairing the damage to his enormous frame.


As time passed, a strange curse struck the lands around her village. Small animals, birds and insects were found dead. Hunters returned with less and less game. Even the trees seemed to fade, growing sickly and gray, and the villagers found they were exhausted, no matter how much they rested. Though as worried by the curse as anyone else, Ash never connected it with her new friend. She hugged her secret to herself even when agents from the capitol arrived to investigate.


The morning of her sixteenth birthday, Ash set out to the woods early. She had received new hunting weapons as a gift from her mother and father, and was eager to try them out. Hunting is often called “the art of silence†and despite her youth, Ash was skilled in that art.


Her quiet morning was interrupted by the far-off clash of weapons, by distant cries and glittering, inhuman laughter. Ash knew what the sounds meant. But instead of running back, she ran deeper into the forest, following the fateful stream till she reached the cavern where the “metal man†lay, almost completely cleared of his earthen bonds. “Help us now,†she demanded. “Whatever you want, whatever you need, I promise I’ll do it, no matter what! Just help us. Help me stop them!â€


The golden man looked at her, fondly, she thought. “Yes,†he said, “it is time.†Touching her forehead, he spoke a single word: “Return.â€


And Ash found herself engulfed in golden light.


When she came back to herself, she was already strapped into Lightning from Heaven’s fuselage; they tore their way free of the cave, reborn again, together.


Lightning’s delicate Essence weapons had deteriorated into scrap during his long centuries underground, but he still had his mighty orichalcum fists and his deadly Charms. The unprepared Fair Folk were like butterflies caught in a rockslide. In the exultant daze of victory, Ash emerged from Lightning, only to find her neighbors looking at her with terror. And even as she tried to reassure them, the three government agents who had come to investigate the curse threw off their cloaks and revealed themselves as the gods of her land. Speaking as one, they thanked her for stopping the raksha…and then banished her from their realm forever. The Exalted, they explained, brought nothing but trouble and danger.


Devastated and bewildered, Ash (and Lightning) fled to where her house stood…only to find that the Fair Folk had attacked this part of the village first. Ash knelt in the smoking hole that was once her home next to her parents’ smoldering remains, and could not weep. Rage replaced fear and a new resolve came over he.


“Let’s go, Lightning. There’s nothing for us here.â€

 

[Arynne]

THE ECLIPSE


The humble farmer and her husband had no child, so they went to beg the old witch for one. The witch (who lived deep in the jungle, surrounded by her strange offspring) would not part with any of her children, but offered to loan one to them for a while. Before her sixteenth birthday dawned, however, the child would have to return to the wild to complete her destiny.


The couple agreed (desperate people will agree to anything) and the bargain was made. The story doesn’t say whether the woman actually gave birth to the witch’s child herself, or if she found the baby on her doorstep when she and her husband returned home. It does say that the child was a beautiful little girl, perfect in every way -- save for…oddly-colored eyes, and two odd splotches on her back. These were easily concealed, though, and her parents quickly came to dote on their new daughter.


Nike had a happy childhood. Life in the Age of Sorrows is never easy, but her mother and father cherished one another and her, and she had many playmates in the village, drawn by her grace and laughter. Yes, her childhood was happy…so long as she remained a child.


It was on her thirteenth birthday that her mother noticed the lumps on her back. After that, things went downhill with the speed of a runaway wagon.


The lumps grew and grew, taking on an unmistakable shape. Nike’s parents tried strapping them down, but the attempt caused her such agonizing pain that they gave it up. Whispers followed her everywhere, as did words like “mutant†and “changelingâ€. Her former friends pretended not to know her. Life in the village became torment, but the farmer forbade her daughter to go anywhere near the forest. As time passed, she seldom liked to even let Nike out of sight.


On the eve of her sixteenth birthday Nike’s mother and father grew even more agitated. Speaking harshly to their daughter for the first time in her life, they ordered her into the cellar and bolted her in. “Cover your eyes,†they told her. “Cover your ears. Do not make a sound. Be still as death.â€


She huddled in the dark for an unknown length of time until hunger, thirst and resentment drove her to rebellion: she opened her eyes, took her hands from her ears, and found food and water. She then called to her parents, but no one answered.


Going up the stairs, Nike found the cellar door unbolted, and no trace of her parents anywhere. The table and chairs had been upset, and in the dirt outside her front door she saw the tracks of many animals. When she went outside to look more closely, she found herself in the midst of monsters that had flooded into the grazing-grounds and the plowed fields and the village itself.


Some rushed to and fro, treading down the grain and cutting flat the banks of the irrigating channels. Others wheeled and squealed, and tore through the narrow streets, leaning against the huts right and left, shivering the crazy doors, and crumpling up the eaves. The three or four horses that belonged to the village lay in their stables with their heads beaten in, except for the last, whose carcass had been insolently dragged to the open street.


Most of the people were missing. A handful were huddled near the village shrine, staring in terror at an approaching monstrosity. Nike ran towards them, hardly knowing what she was doing, shouting for the attackers to stop --


-- and they did.


Gold and white light filled the ruins of the village, and Nike heard her own voice speaking, in a language she had never spoken before yet somehow understood. She telling the creatures that they had no right to attack her, or the mortals, who were under her protection. Somehow, it worked. They lowered their heads and departed.


But the village was lost. With the fields wrecked and even their stores of seed grain destroyed, to stay would have meant death. Nike would have stayed with the few survivors and helped them -- but she found that they still hated and feared her, now more than ever before. They blamed her for the coming of the monsters. Besides, many more villagers were missing for than the dead and the refugees could account for.


Including Nike’s parents, and all of the village’s children other than Nike herself.


Nike walked away from the remains of village that day, away from the house that was no longer her home. She set off into the jungle in search of her family and her friends…and somebody else, who could do what her parents were unable to do.


As let her great copper-feathered wings stretch out for the first time, she thought, What I need is someone who can teach me how to fly.

 

[xarvh]

Ugly draft of charsheet.

Name            Ruin
Concept         Anti-hero
Motivation      Defend the defenseless, protect the innocent

Caste           Dawn
Flaw            Red Rage of Compassion



INTIMACIES
+Mankind
+Honor
+Personal responsibility
-Soldiers



DESCRIPTION
A man of seemingly average built, looking older than he is.
Dark ungroomed hair and a very short badly cut beard.
Dresses in whatever cobbled-together clothes fit the local condition, as long
as it does not interfere with movements.
He hardly ever smiles and there is a ferocious determination in his blood-stained blue eyes.



ATTRIBUTES
   Strength            oooo
   Dexterity           ooo
   Stamina             oooo

   Charisma            ooo
   Manipulation        oo
   Appearance          oo

   Perception          ooo
   Intelligence        oo
   Wits                oooo



ABILITIES                               ? BPs
C   Archery             ooo o
C   Martial Arts        ooo o
C   Melee               ooo oo          Sword oo
C   Thrown              ooo oo          Knife oo
C   War                 ooo o

F   Integrity           o
   Performance         
   Presence            
F   Resistance          ooo o
F   Survival            o

   Craft
   Investigation       
   Lore                o
   Medicine            
   Occult              

F   Athletics           o
   Awareness           o
F   Dodge               ooo oo          Unarmored oo
   Larceny             
   Stealth             o

   Burocracy           
   Linguistics         o
   Ride                
   Sail                
   Socialize           



VIRTUES, WILLPOWER, ESSENCE             8 BPs
Compassion     oooo
Convinction    oo
Temperance     oo
Valor          oooo

Willpower      ooooo ooooo

Essence        oo



BACKGROUNDS
Contacts       o
Cult           ooo     Worshiped as hero and savior by many survivors of Northern wars 
Resources      ooo     Weapons taken from his enemies and sold.



HARDWARE
Exceptional Chopping Sword
Exceptional Knife
Exceptional Short Sword
Perfect Throwing Knives (x Inf)



CHARMS
Lightspeed Body Dynamics                -       Gain EnemyEss/2 motes per DodgeDV use
Reed in the Wind                        -       +EnemyEss/2 to DodgeDV
Shadow Over Water                       1
.Seven Shadows Evasion                  3

Soul Fire Resurgence                    -       Spend 1w: Recover Valor roll HLs.
Elegant Dance of Bow and Blade          -
Flashing Draw Mastery                   - MaRe  +1suxx to JB, draw weapon, 1st attack Speed 3

One Weapon, Two Blows  (Mart)           3
Melee II                                1x
Thrown I

 

[Axelgear]

It's the New Year, folks! Happy New Year to all. This means you've got three days to get your concepts and sheets finished, those of you who haven't. Don't forget, once your sheet and backstory are done, PM them to me for consideration.


Also, small update on sorcery: You get one free spell for the initiation charm. Update added to the front page.

 

[Tableface]

So without further delays, my character. Praan Cloudbinder, Sorcerer-Knight-Statesman who is totally not a Jedi.


Name: Praan Cloudbinder


Caste: Eclipse


Concept: Mystic Statesman-Knight


Motivation: Bring order to the South


Intimacies: An-Teng (nationalism), the Golden Lord (faith), the Pale Lady (fear), Skylight (possessive affection), his Circle (loyalty), Stod (loyalty), the Realm (disappointment), the Seven-Stranded Vine (hope), those he kills (obligation), Seyes Vidden (inevitability), Creation (love)


Anima: A swarm of golden emperor moths, scattered like flower petals

Spoiler

Attributes[/b]


Strength â—â—


Dexterity â—â—â—â—â—


Stamina â—â—


Charisma â—â—â—


Manipulation â—â—â—


Appearance â—â—â—â—â—


Perception â—â—


Intelligence â—â—


Wits â—â—â—


Abilities


Martial Arts â—â—â—â—â— (Skylight â—â—â—)


Integrity â—â—â—â—â—


Presence â—â—â—â—


Craft â— (Magitech â—)


Lore â—


Occult â—â—â—


Athletics â— (Stunts â—)


Awareness â—â—


Dodge â—â—â—â—


Bureaucracy â—â—â—


Linguistics â—â— (Old Realm, High Realm, Native: Flametongue)


Ride â—


Sail


Socialize â—â—â—


Backgrounds


Artifact â—â—â—â— - Reaper Beamklave (Skylight)


An orichalcum beamklave which was previously the center of a small shrine in An-Teng's Forest of Compassion. Its hilt is a miniature replica of the scepters of office carried by An-Teng's princes, raising questions about what old history it might have with the nation.


Artifact â— - Orichalcum Breastplate (Armored Robes)


A set of dark robes, its chest protected by a dark breastplate, filigreed with orichalcum. Created for and gifted to Praan by the Seven-Stranded Vine prior to his departure from An-Teng.


Mentor â—â—â— - Stod, Mosok Akuma


Stod is old as far as Dragon Kings go, and has served as an Akuma of She Who Lives in Her Name for most of his life. Of late he was attached to the Seven-Stranded Vine, and has taken on the role of mentor to Praan. Despite being no stranger to the martial arts and an accomplished sorcerer, his role in Praan's life is strictly advisory; to do more would conflict with his Urge. He is currently Praan's trainer in Terrestrial Sorcery and Eye of Heaven Style, as well as any Charms of the Whispering Flame as he feels is appropriate. Additionally, he knows some of the Thaumaturgical Arts of Astrology and Geomancy. Often cloaked, both in magic and in garb, the way he hobbles about with his cane belies his capabilities.


Virtues


Compassion â—â—â—


Conviction â—â—


Temperance â—â—


Valor â—â—


Flaw: Tender-Hearted Despair; each day Praan is exposed to a particular social injustice, he rolls his Compassion. During Limit Break, he is noticeably distraught, and all Social attacks which seek to exploit an Intimacy or his Compassion behave as if they had achieved a +3/-3 benefit/penalty. Only through partial control can he stand the misery the world seeks to inflict on itself, by hardening his heart and losing all benefits and weaknesses associated with his Intimacies and his Compassion.


Duration: One scene in social combat, one full day otherwise.


Willpower and Essence


Willpower â—â—â—â—â— â—â—â—


Essence â—â—


Personal: 14/14


Peripheral: 24/31


Committed: 7 (5 to Skylight, 2 to armored robes)


CURRENTLY: 14/14 personal, 24/31 Peripheral, 8/8 willpower


Charms


Martial Arts


1st Martial Arts Excellency


Eye of Heaven Style


Savage World Endurance Method


Devotion Through Conflict Display


Bloody Sun Memorial


Eye of Heaven Form


Presence


2nd Presence Excellency


Hypnotic Tongue Technique


Dodge


Shadow Over Water


Seven Shadow Evasion


Socialize


Mastery of Small Manners


She Who Lives in Her Name


Factual Determination Analysis


Spells


Artifacts and Equipment


Skylight


Orichalcum Reaper Beamklave


Speed 4, Accuracy 18, Damage 6L (11L in Form), Defense 15, Rate 4, Tags:


Armored Robes


7B/8L/7A (2B/1L Stamina)


Health Levels and DVs


Health Boxes


0: O


-1: OOO


-2: OOOO


-4: O


Incapacitated: O


Join Battle/Debate/War: 5


Dodge DV: 6


Parry DV: 8


Dodge MDV: 7


Parry MDV: 4


7 BP on Abilities


2 BP on Artifacts 4


3 BP on Willpower 8


6 BP on out-of-splat Charm


History

Spoiler

His family ferried the canals, and for the most part they were happy. There were few of them, no more than ten, and they ferried cargo boats outside Dragon's Maw. The locals looked down on them, for more reasons than just being ferrymen, but for what and why Praan could never get out of his family. So he spent his days trying to escape the quiet, unproud life he had been born into, running through the Forest of Compassion, riding caravans to the lap under an assumed name which would have assuredly embarassed his family. The injustice of his life and of An-Teng's history at the hands of the Realm was not dulled by witnessing and hearing how much it was the same everywhere: exploitation, slavery, a city of the indentured.


The years went by. Praan's melancholy grew, looking towards the Realm, looking towards its powerful Order, looking to the Dragon-Blooded to save it all, but finding only exacerbation where he glanced. Still he was proud when his mother joined the Legion, and sad when she vanished, presumably killed. Two years after, the rest of his family followed, cut down in the night by an assailant in white, adorned by cloth and jade and the carvings of Seyes Vidden--either "Slayers of Monsters" or "Monster That Slays" depending on context. Praan never got it.


Salvation came from bloody death in the Forest. A small shrine, a small artifact, undisturbed by the millenia. One desperate hope to survive the silent Slayer that followed him. He took his Second Breath then, and lost his hand, even as he beat the Slayer into retreat. Injured and confused and despairing, he was ensnared by the Vines, and their messenger Stod.


The Seven-Stranded Vine sought him, sheltered him, and told him of the proper order of things. Of the rightful queens and Princes that were meant to rule An-Teng. Of the injustices they would right and the systems they would correct, once given the power. And Praan, in all his naivete, believed it. And they told him of his own heritage, his family being an offshoot of the Vines' own leadership, that the Vidden was likely an agent of the Realm, meant to stamp their order out. Praan had planned to climb the Fire Mountains, to seek the wisdom of the Golden Lord, but his departure could not be postponed, not with the Vidden on the prowl. So he crossed the Fire Mountains, and found his way to Gem.


Praan's life is on a collision course. For the moment he remains blissfully unaware and ignorant of the factors trying to influence his life, and force his hands. Of the true motivations of the wise Mosok that follows just a few steps behind him, feeding him power and philosophy. Of the Order he naively hopes in the cause of. Of what truths the Golden Lord might feed him, should they ever meet. Of the identity and purpose of the Vidden. And of the source of the unusual but effective techniques Stod teaches him. He meditates in the eye of these events--and when it passes, the storm which follows will change him, and the South, forever.


Appearance

Spoiler

Young and handsome, Praan would have received a number of favorable looks from other Tengese if it hadn't been for his 'untrustworthy' family status. His face is sharp and unblemished, and his hair--the stark white of unfavorable omens--is always kept darkly-dyed. His voice would be considered soothing had he ever dropped the boyish lilt to it, making him sound either whiny or excited about most things that interest him. The stump of his left hand has been fitted with a clockwork gem-and-jade prosthetic which he keeps concealed beneath a heavy glove.


Currently, his attire consists of a dark set of robes around a dark breastplate. Skylight hangs at his waist, faintly resembling a miniature version of an An-Teng scepter. He's taken to wearing a topknot, because why not?

 

[Midboss]

Name: Farah Sashmir


Caste: Zenith


Concept: Inspirational Actress/singer


Motivation: To inspire people to a new age of greatness


Anima:


Age: 31


Nationality: Chiascuro


Height: 1m71


Weight:


Hair: White Long


Job: Lead Actress/Singer

Spoiler

Backstory:


There was a time when Farah was just the daughter of a relatively well off merchant family in Chiascuro. There was a time when she simply happened to be a singer and actress. There was a time where all she ever wanted was to spend time on the scene in front of the crowds. Things have changed a slight bit to say the least. But lets go back to the beginning.


Young Farah was born of a well off merchant family….


Not that far back.


At the age of 22 Farah was already a rather successful singer and occasionally acted in plays, but sadly enough, the theatre from which they operated ended up closing due to some shady deals of the owner.


Rather than simply split up and give up, Farah successfully persuaded the rest of the troupe to keep together and start a new venue. They all put their savings together in a risky gambit to renovate an old building in the old town to act as their new playhouse.


Said building was an old and derelict temple from the first age that apparently hadn't had any use since the end of the First Age. And so renovations started and the troop put a lot of hard work in turning the old temple in a bran new theatre. Obviously, such renovations would cost no small amount of money and finding some investors would prove to be challenging. Someone suggested her charming some rich noble to finance the restoration and play. He withdrew that suggestion one whack from the paper fan later. It was instead agreed that everyone would use their contacts to advertise the play for the opening night and use the money from the advance sales to finance said restoration and play. Even though the sales were adequate, they were still rather short from full renovation.


One afternoon in the week before the great night, Farah was rehearsing her part alone on the set getting well in her role when a literal case of divine inspiration struck her. For you see, this renovated building was once a temple manse of the Unconquered Sun and she was now to be his new priestess. In his vision to her, he showed the way hidden heart of the Manse. She made her way there and sat in the middle of the room, meditating. The result was far beyond what she expected. Her whole body shone with golden light and a mark had now appeared on her brow: A golden disc signifying her belonging to the Zenith caste.


It was clear now what she had to do. Hours later, when the anima had disappeared she joined the rest of the crew with many ideas and modifications to the opening. When the grand night came, it was a resounding success. The public was moved and the following representations attracted many more viewers. In the following months the theatre became a great centre for Chiascuro cultural events. Plays, operas, people were now queuing to see them, in no small part due to Farah's acting. In the meanwhile, she herself had become a celebrity in high society and had attracted many admirers.


A little known fact about her (other than her exaltation obviously) was that she now subtly inserted some hidden messages in her creations, slowly preparing people to be ready for the return of the Unconquered Sun and the solars. She of course makes sure to not make it obvious, the last thing she wants was to attract attention from the Wyld Hunt.


Recently, she has decided to prepare touring for other towns in order to spread the message out there. The Unconquered Sun was ready for a comeback tour and she was going to act as his herald.





bp:0/18


Attributes:


Physical:


Strength: 2


Dexterity: 3


Stamina: 2


Social:


Charisma: 4


Manipulation: 3


Appearance: 4


Mental:


Perception: 3


Intelligence: 3


Wits: 3


Abilities:


Dawn:


Archery:


Martial Arts (fav): 3 (war fans: 2)


Melee:


Thrown:


War:


Zenith:


Integrity: 3


Performance: 4 (spe: acting, song) (1bp)


Presence: 4 (1bp)


Resistance:


Survival:


Twilight:


Craft:


Investigation:


Lore: 2


Medicine (fav): 2


Occult: 1


Night:


Athletics (fav): 1


Awareness: 1


Dodge (fav): 3


Larceny:


Stealth:


Eclipse:


Bureaucracy:


Linguistics: 3 Fire Tongue, River Tongue, Old Realm, High Realm


Ride:


Sail:


Socialize (fav): 3


Advantages:


Backgrounds:


Resources: 3


Influence: 2


Manse: 3 Gem of grace (1bp)


Artefact: Orchicalum Bracers (2bp)


Artefact: 2 Pair of Seven Jewelled Peacock Fans (2bp) (Speed: 5, Accuracy: +3, Damage: 5B/1L, Defence: +3 Rate: 3)


Merits:


Enchanting Features: 4 bp


Charms: 00/10


1st Integrity Excellency


Temptation resisting Stance


1st Performance Excellency


Heart Compelling Method


Phantom Conjuring Performance


Ox Body Technique x 2


1st Presence Excellency


Wise Eyed Courtier


Martial Arts:


Dreaming Pearl Courtesan Style:


Demure Carp Feint


Lethal Paper Fan Attack


Dreaming Pearl Courtesan Form


Virtues:


Compassion: 3


Temperance: 2


Conviction: 2


Valor: 2


Virtue Flaw:


Willpower: 5/5


Health Levels:


-0: 1/1


-1: 2/2


-2: 2/2


-4: 1/1


Incap: 1/1


Essence: 3 (7bp)


Personal: 14/14


Peripheral: 35/35


Commited:


Manse:


The Chiascuro Theatre and Opera House


Well Flavoured Aspect: 1pts


Geomantic Subtlety: 2pts


Temple Manse: 3pts

 

[Axelgear]

Do you know what today is, folks!? Yes, it's decision day! I'd normally apologize to the people I didn't take but, truth be told, the sheets PMed to be both filled my requirements and fell within my limits. As a result, this was an unusually easy decision-making process.


So, without further ado, I put up the names of those who got in (and with what character). I'm also going to put up some details for when the sub-forum is finally created, so we can dive into things.


Brekkir - Rahim Laenir - Twilight


Effing Skrakes - Ezria - Zenith


Xarvh - Ruin - Dawn


Tableface - Praan Cloudbinder - Eclipse


Dio - 7:24 - Twilight


Arynne - Bone Shadow - Night


Midboss - Farah Sashmir - Zenith


So, congratulations, everyone. I'm taking one more person than I set my limit at but seven god-kings are not all that much more nightmarish than six. Check the notes and make any final decisions.

Spoiler

When the game begins, you will be starting off in two groups: Those already in Gem, and those approaching it via trade caravan. How you came to be in either is up to you, but make your decision.


Here's some local rumors that have been spreading for the past season or so:


-The trade war between Gem and Paragon is beginning to heat up. The Despot is hiring more mercenaries than ever, and Paragon has begun to quietly "conscript" captured bandit forces, in preparation for previously unspoken tensions to turn violent. It's a seller's market in both cities. Naturally, many of these mercenaries are ordered to raid caravans flying the flags belonging to the opposition of the city that hired them. Many unscrupulous raiders don't mind picking on any merchant not flying the flag of their home city. The roads are increasingly dangerous.


-In courts across the South, the people who call themselves Ashlanders have begun to seek the right to post embassies. More and more, their white-robed petitioners wander the streets, and their merchant caravans sell all sorts of exotic wares from near the Bordermarches. Everything from jewel sand to blue flames that burn cold are found in their stores. The Ashlander diplomats and merchants are usually utterly polite and friendly, though very hushed on where they come from. When asked their origins, they speak of city-states on the border of the Wyld, united in mutual friendship and defense against the crawling chaos, but say little more. When pressed for more, they apologize profusely ("My apologies, sahib, but one such as I is not equipped to give a full account."), and swiftly change the topic.


-In response to the rise of the Bull of the North and his circle, House Tepet sent its legions Northwards and they were thoroughly destroyed; crushed beneath Anathema boot-heels. Realizing the threat that a group of Anathema poses once in the prime of power, the various Great Houses have started to send soldiers to protect their various holdings. Support for the Wyld Hunt is greatly encouraged by House Elders, who use it to both send their children to find fame and glory, and to get younger rivals out of the way in the race for the throne. More and more Dragon-Blooded pour out from the Isle by the day, bringing sizable retinues with them. When spread across four directions, the actual numbers in each city are not overwhelming, but it's enough to have left large numbers nervous. An alliance between House Sesus and House V'neef has been disproportionately represented in the South, especially.

 

[Brekkir]

Yeah!


Choosing my last charms by friday if all goes well. Tomorrow I'm unavailable but after that, my schedule goes (hopefully) back to less shitty.