Populace of the Heavenly Registry (LFG/LFP)

Re: Populous of the Heavenly Registry (LFG/LFP)


Arynne here again, with a character many of you will find familiar...


Background:
Na’a Talya was the daughter of a family of thaumaturges in the service of a Twilight Caste. Her family’s connections and her own brilliance ensured that she received the best education available to a mortal; she mastered the Art of Alchemy at a very young age, specializing in magical fuels and reagents for artifact weapons and armor. Pleasure-loving and well aware of her privileged position, she thought very little about the consequences of her work.


All that changed when her patron was assassinated and she was kidnapped by a group of mortal and Dragon-Blooded rebels who forced her to produce weapons and performance-enhancing drugs that they vainly hoped would allow them to take on the Celestial Exalted; they also tortured her for information about the Twilight’s artifact designs, and demanded that she fix the few (badly damaged) artifact armors and weapons they had been able to acquire, and make them usable by mortals. An impossible task, but one she had to attempt, on pain of death -- and in attempting to do the impossible, Talya Exalted.


Restoring one of the suits of power armor was child’s play. Immediately after, the rebels received a short, sharp shock. Very short.


Not without fire can any workman mould


The iron to his preconceived design,


Nor can the artist without fire refine


And purify from all its dross the gold;


Nor can revive the phoenix, we are told,


Except by fire. Hence, if such death be mine,


I hope to rise again with the divine,


Whom death augments, and time cannot make old.


O sweet, sweet death! O fortunate fire that burns


Within me still to renovate my days,


Though I am almost numbered with the dead!


If by its nature unto heaven returns


This element, me, kindled in its blaze,


Will it bear upward when my life is fled.


Character Sheet:




Name: Talya, “The Iron Maidenâ€


Motivation: Ensure that science is only used for benevolent purposes


Caste: Twilight


Anima: A blazing garda bird; when iconic, the bird explodes, rising again in flames


Attributes: Strength 3, Dexterity 5, Stamina 3; Charisma 3, Manipulation 4, Appearance 3; Perception 4, Intelligence 5, Wits 4


Virtues: Compassion 3, Conviction 3, Temperance 2, Valor 3


Virtue Flaw: Fanatical Devotion


Abilities: Archery 3, Athletics 3, Awareness 3, Bureaucracy 4, Craft: Air 2, Craft: Fire 4, Craft: Water 3, Craft: Magitech 5, Dodge 3, Integrity 3, Investigation 3, Linguistics 2 (Native: Earthtongue; Others: Old Realm, Riverspeak), Lore 5, Martial Arts 3, Medicine 3, Occult 5 (Art of Alchemy +3), Presence 3, Resistance 4, Ride 2, Socialize 3, War 3


Backgrounds: Arsenal 4, Connections (Military R&D) 3, Cult 1, Manses 3, Panoply 2, Reputation 2 (Eccentric but brilliant young smith), Savant 4, Retainers 1, Wealth 5


Charms --


Excellencies: Archery (1st), Bureaucracy (2nd), Craft (1st, 2nd, Infinite Craft Mastery), Lore (1st, 2nd), Martial Arts (1st), Occult (2nd)


Bureaucracy: Frugal Merchant Method, Insightful Buyer Technique, Speed the Wheels


Craft: Crack-Mending Technique, Craftsman Needs No Tools, Durability-Enhancing Technique, Object-Strengthening Touch, Peerless Paragon of Magitech, Wonder-Forging Genius (2), Words-as-Workshop Method


Lore: Chaos-Repelling Pattern, Immanent Solar Glory, Wyld Cauldron Technology, Wyld-Shaping Technique


Resistance: Armored Scout’s Invigoration, Hauberk-Lightning Gesture, Ox-Body Technique (3), Whirlwind Armor-Donning Prana


Join Battle: 7


Attacks --


Gauntleted Punch: Speed 5, Accuracy 10, Damage 18B/4 piercing, Defense 9, Rate 2


Booted Kick: Speed 5, Accuracy 8, Damage 9B, Defense 6, Rate 2


Clinch: Speed 6, Accuracy 8, Damage 3B, Defense - , Rate 1


Essence Bolts: Speed 5, Accuracy 10, Damage 18B, Rate 2, Range 100


Soak: 18L/20B (Orichalcum Celestial Battle Armor, +17L/17B, Hardness 11)


Health Levels: -0/-1/-1/-1/-1/-1/-2/-2/-2/-2/-2/-2/-4/Incapacitated


Dodge DV: 7


Willpower: 7


Essence: 5


Notes:





Talya owns multiple suits of armor, almost all of which she built herself; she could conceivably possess any artifact armor in the corebook or Wonders of the Lost Age, from a simple breastplate to dragon armor. Her fabulous Wealth stems from IronWorks, Ltd., which is partly an import-export business that deals in exotic magical ingredients, and partly a series of workshops that design and build customized artifacts (primarily armor and defensive weaponry). She inherited IronWorks from her previous incarnation, but she has done much to build up the business in her own right. Talya will not sanction the creation of magical weapons for mortal use, however, as she does not believe mortals are responsible enough to be trusted with such dangerous toys. Paradoxically, she places a high value on mortal lives, and the carelessness of many of her fellow scientists enrages her. All of Talya’s workshops have very strict guidelines concerning the treatment of workers.


Her two mortal servants are both getting on in years -- particularly Fern, her elderly housekeeper, who has been with Talya since her Exaltation -- and they have gently urged to consider taking a Dragon-Blooded assistant, especially since IronWorks has become much, much too large for one person to handle alone…even one of the mighty Solars. Talya is dragging her feet over this necessary and inevitable step, as the circumstances of her capture have left her somewhat distrustful of the Terrestrial Exalted as well.


Incidentally, her nickname of “the Iron Maiden†is more than a reference to her work: while she was once known for her carefree lifestyle, no Exalt, and as far as is known, no mortal, can claim to have had intimate relations with Talya since her Exaltation. Rumors abound, ranging from a natural darkening of personality due to her imprisonment and torture, to some horrific injury she suffered that left her flesh rotting…or bleeding endlessly…or weirdly mutated, depending on whom you talk to. The only certain thing is that no one has had the nerve to ask.
 
Re: Populous of the Heavenly Registry (LFG/LFP)


She's an Established Solar, created for a First Age game, but who didn't make the final cut.


After all, if anyone could build a functioning suit of power armor IN A CAVE! WITH A BOX OF SCRAPS! it would be a Copper Spider... :wink:
 
Re: Populous of the Heavenly Registry (LFG/LFP)


This one’s still a bit rough and unfinished...I haven’t found a picture of sufficient coolness yet. :wink:

The last thing Mitty saw was the ceiling crashing down on her.


She had gone back into the blazing building to look for two of her young students, but only succeeded in finding one. As she sprinted for the door with the half-conscious child in her arms, she heard the screeching, groaning, snapping sound above and realized instinctively what it meant. Bracing herself, she hurled the little boy with all her might and saw him fly out the doorway and tumble to the ground amidst the frightened crowd of students and teachers who had already made it outside. Then she looked up.


Briefly, Mitty’s life flashed before her eyes -- a short but wearying existence struggling to “make a differenceâ€, to inspire a love of learning in restless children in the hopes that the lesson might actually sink in for a few of them. The hard work, the loneliness, the feeling that there must be something more that she was missing. She thought, Well, I made a difference for one child. At least that’s something. Then, the ceiling came down.


What followed after was too strange for her ever to relate to another person, even the ones like herself, who might have understood. She died while sitting peacefully in a children’s playground. She died standing between her younger sister and a group of thugs. She died on the stage of a great auditorium, as the blood from her ruined lungs stained her costume. She died and she died and she died.


And she lived.


A long life of apathetic service as a government functionary, followed by a sudden burst of passionate dedication that led her to help build a playground for local children when diagnosed with cancer. A brief existence as a rebellious daughter and bullying older sibling, ending when the sight of her sister’s danger led her to realize how much she loved her. Years as a second-rate performer in the city theatre, until she accepted a chance to sing at a gala for the war effort, despite the physicians’ warnings that it would kill her.


Every life was one of quiet desperation, because of that something different deep within her. She never fully understood what it was, or what to do with it, but she had always known it was there, like a splinter of glass buried deep in her hand. The unused gift waited, somewhere deep down inside, and she could never be fully happy or at peace, for her full talents were not being tested.


And yet, with each life there also came a moment when she was given a chance to be more than she had been, to soar on wings of glory, however briefly. It always meant that her life was cut short -- but how brightly she burned before the dark!


At last she understood: her many lives of struggle and sacrifice had finally been noticed, and were being rewarded in the greatest way possible for one of her people. When the newly awakened Jade Caste broke the surface of the vat, it was to begin a rich, rewarding existence full of the wonder, glory and adventure that had always been so sorely lacking. Gifted with an imperishable body and divine powers, Unexpected Flowering of Heroic Fortitude looked forward to a sublime immortality.


…except that it didn’t work out that way. Given that none of her previous lives were soldiers, and most of them had jobs involving bureaucracy, education or the arts, Flowering found herself “requested†to help the city’s Office of Education and Political Correctness. There, she writes or rewrites poems, plays and novels in order to instill the proper attitudes in the Populat. At other times she is asked to walk among mortals and slip ideas into their thoughts directly.


This hardly seems like suitable work for a Champion, especially one of the Executives. Still, Flowering bows to the demands of duty, even as she chafes inwardly at the prospect of this life turning out exactly like those before…only longer. She compensates where she can, by asking older Exalted to train her in the fighting arts and having more physical Charms designed for her. Recently, she has applied for a transfer to Project Razor.





Name: Unexpected Flowering of Heroic Fortitude


Caste: Jade


Anima Banner: Spinning squares of red and green jade that arrange themselves into an abstract mosaic


Attributes: Strength 2, Dexterity 3, Stamina 3; Charisma 4, Manipulation 2, Appearance 3; Perception 3, Intelligence 4, Wits 4


Virtues: Compassion 3, Conviction 2, Temperance 1, Valor 3


Abilities: Awareness 2, Bureaucracy 3, Dodge 2, Integrity 2, Investigation 2, Linguistics (Native: Autocthonic; Other: Old Realm) 1, Lore 3, Martial Arts 2, Melee 2, Occult 2, Performance 3, Presence 3, Socialize 3, Thrown 2


Backgrounds: Allies 3, Artifacts 2, Class 3, Eidolon 3, Extra Charms 3


Installed Charms --


Augmentations: Charisma (1st), Wits (1st)


Appearance: Integrated Artifact Transmogrifier


Charisma: Hierarchical Dogma Lock


Manipulation: Unobtrusive Repartee Baffles


Stamina: Strain-Resistant Chassis Modification, Subcutaneous Armor Plating


Wits: Synaptic Acceleration Node


Charms on Retainer --


Augmentations: Dexterity (5th)


Strength: Essence Irradiation Corona


Dexterity: Light-Etched Interceptor Barrier


Join Battle: 6


Attacks --


Punch: Speed 5, Accuracy 6, Damage 2B, Defense 7, Rate 3


Kick: Speed 5, Accuracy 5, Damage 5B, Defense 3, Rate 2


Clinch: Speed 6, Accuracy 5, Damage 2B piercing, Defense - , Rate 1


Jade Dagger (Melee): Speed 4, Accuracy 9, Damage 5L, Defense 5, Rate 3


Jade Dagger (Thrown): Speed 4, Accuracy 6, Damage 5L, Rate 3, Range 60


Soak: 8L/12B (Subcutaneous armor plating, +2L/3B, Hardness 1L/2B; Enhanced buff jacket, +5L/6B, Hardness 2L/2B)


Health Levels: -0/-1/-1/-2/-2/-2/-2/-2/-2/-2/-4/Incapacitated


Dodge DV: 4


Willpower: 6


Essence: 2


Personal: 6/12


Peripheral: 25/34


Committed: 17


Equipment: Buff jacket, jade trinket of dignified conduct, concealed knife bracer with a quickmouth apparatus attached, jade amulet holding a deception engine.
 
Re: Populous of the Heavenly Registry (LFG/LFP)


No, I didn't know. Have they errata'd them already? Oh, my aching head!
 
Re: Populous of the Heavenly Registry (LFG/LFP)


Iona


Concept: Freedom fighter


Caste: Slayer


Motivation: Free the people of Lap from servitude to the Realm


Urge: Adorjani


Unwoven coadjutor: Neomah

Iona Greensward pressed herself into the hard stone wall as a column of troops marched into the courtyard. Her plan was nearing it's completion and she forced herself to wait another ten seconds when she thought it was safe before darting out of the shadows and through a door into the wall. Gliding up the stairs, she caught glimpses of the garishly decorated courtyard quickly filling with people.


These people, these deluded fools, thought that all was well in the satrap. They were blinded to the suffering outside the city by the honeyed words of the new triumvir. The triumvir that taxed them near to starvation to gain favor with the isle. The triumvir that even now was no doubt preening himself for the stage. He had been in his office for less than a year, and now he was preparing to announce a celebration for the favor shown to them by the "blessed" isle. Favor that extended no further than his own circle of landowners. Peleps Tuchet, this will be your last celebration.


Stirred by her anger, Iona crept into the storage room she had selected. High in the wall it offered her a small window into the courtyard. And that would be enough. She collected a bow and arrows from a sack of grain. Meticulously she strung it and drew the ornate arrow she had selected for the occasion.


She waited. A long twenty minutes passed as her mind flickered over the events that moved her to this. Training with her brother, becoming a Sepoy, each little selfish act and abuse of power witnessed while guarding land owners and realm officials, and her brother's needless death had been the last. She would no longer listen to quaint stories of heroes of the sun that could save them. Finally the moment came, she drew aim on the neck of the man she blamed. The sun flared just over the wall as she loosed her shot. It burrowed deep in a wooden post having but scratched the triumvir's throat. Cursing the ill timed light from the sun she moved quickly down the passage to the window that would offer her escape.


And then she ran. She hid in a forest near the Penitent and raged quietly against the injustice of the world. It was here that the pale purple woman Nara found her, and offered her the power to right the injustices of the world, the power to succeed where she had just failed. Iona accepted at once, determined to free her people.


Reborn as princess of demons, Iona struggles to reconcile her hatred of constraints with the source of her new power and the power she has in this dark new world. Nothing in her previous life had even begun to prepare her for this.





Born to a family of farmers in Lapland.


Constantly looked up to her older brother and begged him to teach her.


Trained by her older brother (6 years her elder), a Sepoy who managed to get hired into the 12th Legion. He was a talented soldier, but distinguished from others by his amiable demeanor. He eventually gave in to teaching Iona because she threatened to run away. He did manage to slip in that he wouldn't begin her training until she started her indenture.


From age 13 to 18 she worked the fields by day and trained with her brother every evening he was home.


Because of her training, she made it into a Sepoy fang.


She fought bandits and outlaws and like any other, and was eventually promoted into a more advanced fang that did more escort work. Here she was exposed to a number of self-important dynasts and officials, whose bad behaviour far out weighed the few good men they did serve (at least in her eyes). It was as a constant slap in the face to have to serve people who thought so little of her people.


Her attitude towards the Realm subtly guided her to more and more questionable places in small acts of rebellion.


She learned of the Cult of the Illuminated and heard their stories.


She started to carry Lap-script.


Her brother's death in a foolish military move by the Realm appointed general spurred her to action. The rest is above.





Attributes


Strength â—â—â—â—


Dexterity â—â—â—â—â—


Stamina â—â—


Charisma â—â—


Manipulation â—â—


Appearance â—â—â—


Perception â—â—â—â—


Intelligence â—â—


Wits â—â—â—


Abilities (6 BP)


â—Archery â—â—â—â—â—


â—Martial Arts â—


â—Melee â—â—â—â—


â—Thrown â—


â—War â—


â—Integrity â—


Performance


Presence


Resistance â—


â—Survival â—â—


Craft


Investigation â—


Lore â—


Medicine


Occult â—


â—Athletics â—â—â—


â—Awareness â—â—


Dodge â—â—


Larceny â—


â—Stealth â—â—â—


Bureaucracy


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


Ride â—


Sail


Socialize â—


Specialties (1bp)


Plant Identification (Survival) â—â—


Demon Tactics (War) â—


Charms (favored: Malfeas and Adorjan)


1st Adorjan Excellency x 3


Transcendent Desert Creature


Sands Through Fingers Defense


Insignificant Embers Intuition


Green Sun Nimbus Flare


Kissed By Hellish Noon


Wind-Born Stride


Unimpeded Perfection of Exertion


Backgrounds


Artifact â—â— Tainted Green Jade Short Power Bow


Artifact â—â— Tainted Orichalcum Short Daiklave (pair)


Artifact â— Tainted Soulsteel Breastplate


Backing (Malfeas) â—


Cult (Malfeas) â—


Influence (Malfeas) â—


Manse â— (Gem of the Unfailing Path)


Unwoven Coadjutor â—â— (1 BP)


Virtues


Compassion â—â—


Conviction â—â—


Temperance â—


Valor â—â—â—â—


Intimacies


Her Brother's Memory


Laplanders


Personal Freedom


-Peleps Tuchet


-The Realm


-Slavery


Essence â—â—â— (7BP)


WP â—â—â—â—â—â—


Panoply


Tainted Green Jade Short Powerbow (Gem of the Unfailing Path)


-Speed 5, Accuracy +2, Damage +2L, Rate 2, Range 300, Attune 4


Tainted Orichalcum Short Daiklave, pair


-Speed 4, Accuracy +5, Damage +4L, Defense +2, Rate 3, Attune 6


Tainted Soulsteel Breastplate


-Soak +8L/4B, Hardness 3L/3B, Mobility -0, Fatigue 0, Attune 2
 
Re: Populous of the Heavenly Registry (LFG/LFP)


Twilight.jpg



He is a man, a simple man. A man with dreams of greatness. One that can not be denied.


And so he forged wonders, dealt and bargained with beings most alien. For knowledge. For power.


He will prove that the mind is all that is needed to move all of Creation. To make it dance to his desire.


He is Drex, the Legendary Forger of Wonders reborn.

Name : Drex Vrill
Caste : Twilight
Concept : Lex Luthor, Super Genius
Motivation : To recreate/surpass the First Age's wonders
Anima Banner : A glimmering fortress of gold and crystal
Total XP : 000
Spent XP : 000
Saved XP : 000

ATTRIBUTES
Strength oo Charisma oo Perception oooo
Dexterity ooooo Manipulation oo Intelligence oooo
Stamina oo Appearance ooo Wits ooo

ABILITIES - 28+10
Combat 08+2 Life 14+2 Wisdom 06+5
Archery F oobb Craft C 11 dots Bureaucracy F o
Athletics Larceny Investigation C
Awareness F ooo Linguistics o Lore C oobbb
Dodge Performance Medicine C
Integrity F oobb Presence F oo Occult C ooobb
Martial Arts Ride o
Melee Sail
Resistance o Socialise o
Thrown Stealth
War Survival


Crafts: Glamour 2, Air 2, Fire 2, Magitech 3+2
Languages: Riverspeak (N), Old Realm
Specialties:


CHARMS
Archery
1) Archery Second Excellency - 184
instant/refl(step1,2)/combo-ok, buy suxx up to 1/2 attribute+craft
To enhance unrolled uses of the relevant Ability, each two motes spent increases his effective (Attribute + Ability) rating for one task by two.
- 2m/1sux

2) Trance of Unhesitating Speed - 187
instant/extra action/combo-ok, obvious, buy (ess +1) attacks for 2 motes each
cost increases to 4 motes if weapons has rates less than 1
- 2/4 motes per attack

3) Essence Arrow Attack - 188
instant/sup/combo-ok, obvious, add essence to damage
- 2m
Righteous Judgment Arrow secondary effect
- +4 dice of dmg
- +1m


Integrity
1) Integrity Protecting Prana - 199
one day/ref(step 2)/combo-ok, prevents any/all shaping effects on character
- 5m, 1wp


Resistance
1) Essence-Gathering Temper
instant/ref(step8)/combo-ok, roll 2 die/dmg die roll, each suxx (max = stam) = (ess)motes
- 1m


Craft
1) Craft Second Excellency - 184
instant/refl(step1,2)/combo-ok, buy suxx up to 1/2 attribute+craft
To enhance unrolled uses of the relevant Ability, each two motes spent increases his effective (Attribute + Ability) rating for one task by two.
- 2m/1sux

2) Craftsman needs no tools - 213
instant/sup/combo-ok, removes craft penalties for no tools
enhances a craft action (ess x 3) hours of work in an hour
- 7m, 1wp


Occult
1) Spirit Detecting Glance - 221
scene/ref(step1)/combo-ok, see/hear/smell/feel demat spirits (not touch)
- 3m

2) Spirit-Cutting Attack - 221
instant/sup/combo-ok, attack demat spirits, always does agg dmg to spirits
may be comboed with charms of other abilities
- 1m

3) All-Emcompassing Sorceror's Sight - 222
scene/ref(step1), see essence
Allows the character to see motes, Essence-fueled effects,
power and invisible but magical creatures and effects. These things become valid targets for the character’s visual Awareness rolls, including reflexive visual Awareness rolls.
All Charms are treated as Obvious with respect to the character. Dematerialized and invisible creatures and effects are considered visible.
The character recognizes all artifacts, manses and demesnes as such. The character can automatically recognize a creature with Essence 4+ as a supernatural creature.
Characters using Stealth to avoid detection are not automatically revealed by their Charms, Essence trait or carried artifacts. Add the target’s Essence in dice to any attempt by the character to pierce mundane or magical Stealth.
Roll (Intelligence + Occult) to analyze what is seen.
Identifying the exact effects of an unknown Charm or spell is difficulty 5. Gauging the rating of a person’s Essence trait, a demesne, a manse or an artifact has difficulty 2.
- 6m


Anima Effect:
All castes of Solar Exalted can channel Essence directly through their animas to produce magical effects. Every Solar Exalted can use her caste’s anima power without special training.
In addition, any Solae Exalt can spend a single mote of Essence to:
• Cause his caste mark to glow brightly for a scene (as if the character has spent four to seven motes of Peripheral Essence).
• Cause his anima to glow brightly enough to read by for a scene (as if the character has spent eight to 10 motes of Peripheral Essence).
• Know the precise time of the day for the rest of the scene.

Caste Power
Solar Exalted of the Twilight Caste may channel Essence through their animas as a last-ditch protective act. If after damage has been rolled, a Twilight Exalt will lose health levels, she may instead spend five motes of Essence to strengthen her anima in an attempt to resist the attack. Subtract one health level from the damage for every dot of Essence she possesses. This effect can turn an otherwise deadly blow or reduce a weak attack to harmlessness. This effect comes into play automatically once the Solar spends 11-15 motes of Peripheral Essence.


COMBAT
Join Battle: (Wits 3 + Awareness 3) = 6
Dodge DV: (Dex 5 + Dodge 0 + essence 2)/2 + 6 = 10
Parry DV: (Dex 5 + Melee 0 + weapons 7)/2 + 6 = 12
Soak:
Stamina : 2 Bashing, 1 Lethal, 0 Aggravated
Armour : 14 Bashing, 14 Lethal, 14 Aggravated , Mobility -0, Fatigue 0
Total : 16 Bashing, 15 Lethal, 14 Aggravated


Health Levels: -0/-1/-1/-2/-2/-4/Incapacitated
Knock down threshold:
Stun threshold:
Move: (dexterity 5) yards/tick
Swim: (dexterity 5)/2 yards/tick
Dash: (dexterity 5 + 6) yards/tick (speed 3, DV-2)
Jump up: strength 2 + athletics 0 yards
Far jump: (strenth 2 + athletics 0) x 2 yards

SOCIAL
Mental Dodge DV: (Willpower 7 + Integrity 4 + Essence 2)/2
Mental Parry DV: (Charisma 2 + Presence 2)/2
Intimacies: Emerald Queen (positive)

POWER
Essence: 2 Virtues 5+0
Personal Pool: 13/13 Compassion o
Peripheral Pool: 25/25 Conviction oooo
Committed: 5 (artifacts) Tempermance o
Willpower: o o o o o o o Valor ooo
[ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][ ][-][-][-]
Graces
Heart oo (equivilant)
Cup o
Ring o
Staff o
Sword o

Calculations
Personal (Ess 2 x 3) + (WP 7) = 13
Peripheral (Ess 2 x 7) + (WP 7) + (Sum of Virtues 9) = 30

Virtue Flaw: Heart of Flint
Limit Break Conditions:
- Suppress his primary Virtue (the one associated with her Limit Flaw), gain a point of Limit
- Resists an unnatural mental influence, receive one point of Limit, up to once per scene
- The character is frustrated by the intemperate or childish nature of the world around him.

Limit Break: The character’s heart hardens to all emotion. He feels and expresses no emotions: not robotic, but lacking all empathy and feeling. The character considers only efficiency in choosing his course of action, and his reduced tact imposes a two-die penalty on all Social rolls involving face-to-face interactions.

Partial Control: The character’s emotions are significantly muted but still present. She suffers a two-die penalty to Social rolls involving face-to-face interaction, and her primary motivation is still efficiency, but she will avoid doing anything to which she has a strong emotional aversion.

Duration: One day


BACKGROUNDS
Ally o Oozuma the Emerald Queen (Raksha Noble)
Artifact ooo Very Small Concussive Essence Cannon "Reason"
Artifact ooo Anugraha Adjuration Oath "Oath of the Unstoppable Smith"
Artifact b Samhara Adjuartion Oath "Oath of the Legendary Sharpshooter"
Manse bb Gemstone of Surface Thoughts
Resource bbb A paltry sum of money that he has saved up from previous sales


APPEARANCE


SOCIAL TIES


History



POSSESSIONS
Very Small Concussive Essence Cannon "Reason"
Constructed of glimming orichalcum alloyed steel, and fitted with the finest essence lenses and polishedessence capacitors, "Reason" is very clearly a magitech weapon. "Reason" is Drex's first step towards his dream of recreating the wonders of the First Age. For it is his personal design and creation, one that he forged as proof of his growing skills. It currently ultilizes a hearthstone for power; namely Drex's "Gemstone of Surface Thoughts".
Hearthstone powered (level 2 hearthstone)
Speed 4, Accuracy +2, Damage 11B Piercing, Range 100, Rate 1, Attunement 1 motes/Shoot 0
Orichalcum ranged bonus included

Anugraha Adjuartion Oath "Oath of the Unstoppable Smith"
"I swear I shall not be stopped til I have restored the wonders of the First Age."
Attunement 3 motes, 2 mutation points
Mutation version of Imposition of Law (Dexterity + Melee + Swords) (F168)
Mutation version of Defining the Parameters of Battle (FF213)
Mutation version of Worker's Gift (FF193)

Samhara Adjuartion Oath "Oath of the Legendary Sharpshooter"
"I swear my shots shall not falter til I have restored the wonders of the First Age."
Attunement 1 motes, 2 mutation points
Mutation version of Imposition of Law (Dexterity + Archery + Energy Weapon) (F168)

Gossamer Perfect Superheavy Plate "The Impeccible Gentleman"
Soak +14L/+14B, Hardness 0/0, Mobility -0, Fatigue 0, Cost ooooo+oo
A suit for a refined and impeccible gentleman. It takes essence sight to glance deeper into its glamour threads to see that this garment is woven from dreams of fortress weathering sieges.

Gossamer Perfect Chopping Sword "Bloody Claw"
Speed 4, Accuracy +2, Damage +9L/6, Defense -1, Rate 3, Minimum Strength 1, Cost oo+oo

Gossamer Perfect Short Sword "Impassible Thorn"
Speed 4, Accuracy +2, Damage +3L, Defense +7, Rate 2, Minimum Strength 0, Cost o+oo

Mount : a bonded simhata "Sabre Falcon"
A fierce simhata, Sabre Falcon, is also surprisingly tame when Drex rides her. The reason is simple, she had been exposed to Drex's anima banner and thus bonded to him as a proper mount for exalts.

Any reasonable camping equipment as needed.

An estate several miles east of Nexus, run by a raksha commoner mojo domo and staffed by a number of human servants. It is also, oddly enough a manse, or at least has a mansion constructed around one. The manse is aspected to air and provides a gem of surface thoughts.


NOTES


BONUS POINTS
15/15
Ability 10/10, Backgrounds 5/5

Code:
 
Lunar Exalt-Full Moon - Relentless Are the Waves


My name, it doesn't matter what the mortals called me while I was among them, the fact is that they didn't call me that often. I had few friends, did my job, ran lines for the harpoonists and in general kept out of the way. I was young, and had dreams of one day having my own whaling craft. I was learning, then they came. The mist drew in, we couldn't see the stars, and there was no breeze. We drifted for the better part of the day before the first siren's call started. Beautiful women walked across the waves to the ship, hedging away from the bowsprit. That was where our cold-iron tokens were, and those kept Smiles with a Thousand Teeth at bay. She was one of them, you know? Faeries... smiling, shapely, beautiful, sexy, soft, honey-tongued, suck your soul out your ears, faeries. No sir, I wasn't going to let them get me, nor were they getting the trinkets that warded us against them. Then Borall got too close to the port railings and he was pulled over, Gamarn the harpoonist backed away and got too close to the staroard gunwhale. It all happened so fast, first Borall, then Gamarn two of our nine down in an instant. The captain, he got scared he did.


Now I always been a scrapper, but that tumble was not what I wanted right now. The captain saw me standing between him and the bowsprit and the trinkets. He had said if the trinkets were removed then the ship would be vulnerable, though the necklace would ward anyone still holding it. Now he was looking at it as though he was going to have it. I stepped aside, too young and small to hold him off. As he stepped up to the trinket and reached to remove it, I punched him hard, behind the ear, sent the next punch into his kidneys, and the third deep into his gut. Not letting him get his bearings, I circled him, throwing my long arm around his throat grabbing the far shoulder, and my foot into the back of his knee. He went down, but now he was mad, which was what I wanted. I placed my back to the mast, and as the captain stood from me, I kicked off with all my strength. Spinning him as I pulled his shoulder across his front. He hit the rail cursing me and telling me what he was going to do to my mother, but he had forgot where he was. And as a smile big enough to swallow the dinghy rose behind him he was grabbed with super human strength. Now the captain was strong, but that faerie chick, she was a scrapper too, and she laughed as she gave as good as she got. The others looked at me, but crowded closer, away from the rails.


I told them I would do the same to anyone else who tried to remove the cold-iron ward. I told them that the only way we would survive this is if we keep the protections over the ship intact. The captain had been stupid and would have sunk us all. They saw the wisdom and we all settled in for the long wait. I saw the troubles early. We survived off the fish we caught, and the whale meat in the hold, only thing was we couldn't fish with the hussies out there, and we had no whale meat yet. This was going to be a short wait as soon as the others realized we had nothing to eat but faerie dreams and each other. So I slept early and prepared for the long haul.


Now Smiles with a Thousand Teeth spoke to us often and her words were fine, mighty fine. Honey dripped from them but her voice became hoarse and she had difficulty speaking. Then the others hurt her, they hurt her bad and left her to the side of our ship. She wept and cried, her sobs drew Ben to the watch and the infernal bitch got another of us. Laughing she sprang up and drew him over the rail quick as you please. The others rejined her soon. They circled us like sharks do, always singing and promising us bliss if we just toss the trinket in the ocean so they may join us on board. They whispered promises of release to the one who turned his friends over to us, and they swore a hundred years of torment to those who thought they could resist them. Marl, Crabe, and Burr decided they would make the trade as a group and feed me and Elton to the bi***** in exchange for free air and a chance at shore. I saw it coming and faked a deep slumber. Twitching a bit with nightmares even. Well they came on then, Elton took the brunt of the rush, Marl and Burr on him, but Crabe thought he could just sweep me up and toss me overboard. It didn't work. At this point a breeze cut through the mists.


When it was over, Burr, Crabe, Elton, and I made shore, though Burr had a broken jaw, and Crabe was still lashed to the mast his mind had snapped as Marl was bitten in half by Smiles with a Thousand Teeth, Elton took over the ship, but I felt a tug to the coast. Another siren was singing a song for me. She called me Relentless Are The Waves, and she told me I was hers, and I agreed.
 
B. A. Swallow





Y'kno'... We live in a ffuck'd up worl', Ah started like many oda, Ah was born in da streets an' mud...


Not a happy kid, no, Ah grew up with death an' hunga o' ma tail, every goddammit day fight o' die!


But Ah was lucky, Ah was fast and smart, Ah tell ya!


Pickpocket, is what Ah did, just steal food adda market, then steal money, then run...


Ah din't hava time to be scared an'no time to be sad.


Just take an' run.


Afta, Ah wa' stealin' from houses.


But Ah gotta brain, ya kno'?


Is easia when Ah starta use ma pretty face trickin' people to gimme da money straight!


All da tricks? Ah kno' them!


Cryin' Maid? Got it!


Greedy Double? Yyyep!


Coin Corkscrew? Ya betcha!


Pidgeon Deal? Ah invented it!


Pimp Wedgie? Ma fav!


Rich an' poor, Ah din't care.


An' one day Ah was there, playin'n da street with ma last loot, an Ah was, like, "one coin, one chick'n, anoda coin, anoda chick'n..." an' allova sudda Ah realizda "Maan! Ah dunneeda anoda chick'n, a street kid coul' eat da oda chick'n!"


Ah dunno why o' what o' whateva.


Dat day, Ah just gave al' ma money to da poor.


An' ya kno' what?


't felt good!


For da fisst time in ma life Ah said "Fuck man! Ya can make a differen'!"


Ah was confus'd, all of ma life Ah ha' been a prick!


Ah had t' think man!


So Ah was there, thinkin' an lyin'n da Borda, when a booming voice talks me from da sky.


"Duuuuuude!


Everythin's fuck'd up!"


Ah tell ya! Ah liked da Boss at once!


An' Ah was like... "Aaaawesome!"


"Shudda ffuck up man!


Ah respect ya skillz, an' Ah'll grant ya ma powa!


Ya'll be a real badass motherffucka with ma powa!


Ah kno' ya'll use dat for da Good!"


Ah swear, dat was da Sun Himself!


But maybe Ah was just hi o' Wyl'weed...

Code: 
Name            B.A. Swallow
Concept         Scoundrel an' Conman
Motivation      Protect da stray children.

Caste           Night
Flaw            Compassionate Martyrdom


ATTRIBUTES
   Strength            ooo
   Dexterity           ooooo
   Stamina             o

   Charisma            ooo
   Manipulation        ooooo
   Appearance          ooo

   Perception          oo
   Intelligence        o
   Wits                oooo



ABILITIES
F   Archery             ooooo			(2BP)
   Martial Arts        
   Melee               
   Thrown              
   War                 

F   Integrity           o
   Performance         
F   Presence            ooooo	ConGames oo	(3BP)
   Resistance          o
   Survival            

   Craft
F   Investigation       o
   Lore                o
   Medicine            
   Occult              

F   Athletics           ooo
F   Awareness           
F   Dodge               ooooo			(2BP)
F   Larceny             ooooo			(2BP)
F   Stealth             ooo

   Burocracy           ooo
   Linguistics         
   Ride                
   Sail                
F   Socialize           ooooo			(2BP)



VIRTUES, WILLPOWER, ESSENCE
Compassion     ooo
Convinction    oooo
Temperance     o
Valor          o

Willpower      ooooo oooo			(4BP)

Essence        oo



BACKGROUNDS
Followers	oo	The street kids he secretly feeds and protect
Contacts   ooo
Artifact	oo	Orichalcum Bracers



INTIMACIES
+Poor people
+Mutual support in time of need
+Ostentatious arrogance
+Drugs
+Da Cru (Solar Circlemates)
+Zenith Caste
-Spoiled people
-"Da hierarchy", without realizing that he's at the top of it.



CHARMS
Essence Arrow attack
.Phantom Arrow Technique
Graceful Crane Stance
Shadows Over Water
.Seven Shadows Evasion
Flawless Pickpocketing Technique
Lar II
.Flawlessly Impenetrable Disguise
Easily Overlooked Presence
Mastery of Small Manners
 
Name: The Scorpion Cast in Broken Chains


Concept: Slave-rebellion leader turned Renegade Abyssal


Caste: Dusk


Motivation: End slavery


Intimacies: Slavery (consuming hatred), the Enslaved (empathy), Peleps

My name is Scorpion. At another time, I was called The Scorpion Cast in Broken Chains, and in the beginning, a name I am beholden to remember no more.


In those early years, I remember one thing more than all else - freedom. Running on the slopes of Mqankki, stalking prey in the tall grasses of the valley Tisi, dancing with my brothers and sisters in our worship of Ahlat. These are just a few parts of me that have long since died.


I was born Brakhani, in a village that lie in the valley between the mountains E'Orivi, Mqankki, Saturi. Our cattle were healthy and our land was fertile, and though small, we prospered with trade. None of the three came natural to me, and since I was strong and quick, I was trained to be a warrior - defender of the village herd and taker of slaves. This is ironic to me, now.


At the culmination of my boyhood, I was given a knife and sent into the wilderness, not to return without the corpse of a leopard. On my second night, I witnessed a she-leopard fight off a pack of starving jackals, and I decided she would be my prey. For four more days and nights, I stalked the she-leopard, until cornering her at a waterfall. I attempted to close the distance in the shadows, but my skills were no match for her senses. She noticed me no less than ten paces away, and for what seemed forever, she met my gaze with her own golden eyes. In this moment, I could see and feel all that she was. The gates of my mind were opened.


Our eyes remained locked, and this trance might have continued had she not begun to stalk towards me. I stood, drawing my knife, and observed her, waiting for the moment she tensed to pounce. Eight paces. Five paces. Four paces. Three. And then, without forewarning, she leapt. I was surprised, yet, and if not the grace of Ahlat and the Sun I would have died. Tumbling to my right, I grabbed a low-hanging branch of nearby tree and hurdled myself up into its embrace. The she-leopard followed, though this time, I had a plan. Moving outward as the leopard leapt onto the branch, I cornered her once more, yet now between myself and the tree-trunk. Once more, she and I locked gazes, though at this time, I advanced. Snarling, she swiped a paw that could cover my face at me. Knife ready, I parried, my knife digging into her paw. Rage filled her as she pulled tight against the tree-trunk for a moment and then leapt at me once more. This time, I was prepared. Upwards I leapt, grabbing a branch above me and pulling my legs in to avoid her pounce. As she passed underneath me, and I released, turning to dig my dagger into the ridge of her back. She collapsed on top of the branch, and I soon moments after her. I was exhausted, and had made a mistake that nearly cost me my life, though I had passed the trial of manhood.


Upon return with the corpse of the she-leopard, a feast and ceremony was held honoring my ascension to manhood. Anointed with the blood of the she-leopard, I was now a free man.





From this moment on I would learn the ways of battle under my uncle, one of the leaders of our raiding parties. From him I would formally learn of wrestling, the use of the spear and the scythe, the bow, the sling, and the javelin. I would also learn the ways of working together with my brothers and sisters in fights and raids. We even went over what one might consider to be basic combat maneuvers and scenarios involving teamwork. Eventually, I would aid in their creation.


Throughout this entire time I participated as an active member in raids. I remember the the blood racing through my veins, the rush of battle, and the taking of spoils of victory all too well. Wholesale rape and pillaging was normal for us. The tribes we warred against were heathens and only sought to prey on us, so we were told. Remembrance of these times bring me shame, but such is necessary.


Our raids were not always successful, but we were strong, cunning, and many of us had much experience. These blessings would not save us when it truly mattered, though. At first, it was a normal raid, the Sun beginning his climb down from the Heavens. My brothers and I stalked through the great forest ascending Mount Saturi towards the borders of an Izhalvi village. There we would wait until dusk, at which point we would begin our attack.


No less than two hours away we we fell into the trap of several Izhalvi patrols. Though we fought fiercely, they outnumbered us greatly. Those of us who were not slain by the pit trap or hail of javelins either ran or were captured. I was amongst the last to fall into the pit, and while a small blessing, I was saved by the bodies of my brothers from the pointed stakes that filled its belly. As I attempted to find a way out of the pit, a rope was lassoed around my neck, wrenching me out the pit as the life was choked out of me. The last memory I have of this time was my vision fading as my hands were bound with rope.


The next morning, I was no longer free. For three days, the Izhalvi kept those of us survivors in an open cage in a corner of their village, as is customary. We were not the only slaves in this cage, nor the only Brakhani. I can still feel the sheer indignation that I felt in those first days, that somehow, I had been enslaved. It was impossible for me to accept. I had been raised and told that I would one day be a great warrior, a taker of many slaves. The risk of becoming one myself was always present, but never spoken of. And why would we? Such is shameful.


What hypocrisy.


At dawn on the third day, we were forced into smaller cages, where the Izhalvi bound us once more. It was obvious - we were being sold. My fellow Brakhani and I struggled as the Izhalvi separated us, trying in vain to protect those being beaten and pulled towards the smaller cages. Our bravery was foolhardiness that day, and with each struggle we were beaten and whipped more. Eventually we were all bound, and the Izhalvi brought us down to a road. Many of us were auctioned off to the first passersby. The Izhalvi were eager to get rid of us, it seemed. I waited and watched as most of my Brakhani brothers and sisters were sold off until a caravan came by with a large request and bought the rest of us. As the caravan spokesman and the Izhalvi Chief finalized the sale in a language I did not understand, we were dragged off to be thrown into boxed cart. I would not find out where this caravan was going until we had arrived.





When the cart finally stopped, the first thing I remember was the smell of smelters, the acrid smoke of mass ore refining filling my nose. It was a new sensation, a subtle poison working its way into me. I would know later that this was but one of many causes of the death of slaves. I asked my fellow Brakhani what it was, and received no answers. Some did not know, and those who knew would not speak, as if death would claim them otherwise. Without notice, the door of the cart was opened, and we were forcefully removed one by one. As I was pulled away from my fellow Brakhani, I screamed at a guard who yanked a the ropes bound to my shackled hands and feat to tell me where they had taken us. Laughing with a sick pleasure, the guard responded as he whipped me.


"Welcome to Bent Creek!"


Bent Creek. A name only heard in the hushed whispers between elders. My village being isolated, few there truly knew what happened at this place but all who recognized the name knew it to mean one thing - death.


A small "city," if one could call it that, composed of an exploding mining community drawn by huge Jade deposits, Bent Creek relies heavily on slaves to extract the material from the mountainside. Slaves in Bent Creek are tools - used until broken, withered, or dead, and then cast aside as waste, only to be replaced by a new tool. It is a machine built on and fueled by pain and suffering - a machine that I would spend the next nineteen summers of my life as a part of, toiling away through blistering heat, freezing winds, and everything in between.


The first few years were perhaps the hardest of them all. Slaves eat once per day - twice on the rare feast day.


- Note: Time Difference! -





After several months of training, the Lion decided to send me into Creation on orders to raid trade convoys on the Deep Desert Road. His instructions were simple - disrupt as much as possible while avoiding overt attention, and leave no survivors. The specific choice of targets was left for me to decide, as were my methods. It was a test of sorts, one with an outcome the Lion would not expect. Nor I.


Given access to a widespread access of spies and a Talon of Hungry Ghosts, I entered Creation and began preparations. From the beginning, my targets had been slave convoys. I had my own reasons, as should be obvious enough, but what better way to quietly sabotage Gem than to disrupt the movement of human resources?


The first raids were simple. We attacked by night, targeting small caravans in no man's land between villages. A small distraction here, the assassination of a pair of guards there, followed up by the slaughter and razing of the whole caravan. Soldiers, merchants, slaves. They all died. Though I felt initial restraint in killing the slaves, I was continually reminded of the words He Who Holds in Thrall whispered into my ears:


"THERE IS NO GREATER SLAVERY THAN EXISTENCE"


Surely, the slaves would know this too, once in the Underworld. They would understand this gift of mine to them. The terror on their faces, their screams for mercy - all misunderstandings. They would accept this. They had to.


How blind I was.





With confidence in my own performance, I decided to tackle a larger caravan. I believed showing my ambition would surely impress the Lion. Rather, it would be the beginning of something far larger than I might have be able to realize at the time.


In the beginning, the raid was routine. Mortal scouts tracked the caravan and observed it for several days, reporting back to me with specifics about the mercenary guards, observed cargo, and the caravan's behaviors. Once satisfied, I set my plan into motion. Removing the first few patrols myself, I proceeded to set fire to the tents and wagons on the eastern portion of their camp.


As their troops rushed to respond, I moved north and released the first group of Hungry Ghosts from their salt-line pens. Thoroughly enraged from my beatings and their starvation, they surged into the camp, howling as they rampaged unchecked. As soon as they were released, I head west, where I unleashed the remainder of the Ghosts and charged forward with them. though they easily outnumbered us, we caught the mercenaries by surprise.


It was a bloodbath. Screams rang through the camp, human and ghost alike. It was a vortex of death and destruction, and I stood in its center. And then, something interesting happened. As I proceeded to kill slaves bound in one of the larger tents, a fang of mercenaries rushed in to attack me. With a few quick strokes of my blade, they were nearly all slain. The last mortal soldier remained standing, having parried my strike. A pretty little thing, I thought, but she must go.


I thrust my blade at her once more, and yet again, she parried. Again. And again. And again. This was new. I had yet to come across a mortal would was so capable in defending herself. And then, as we locked blades once more, a brilliant light erupted from her forehead. A burning, golden brand of Essence.


"A Golden Bull," I spoke to the Zenith, a cold hatred in my voice. "I was not expecting one of your kind to greet me so openly. My liege will reward me handsomely for your demise."


"You can try, Deathknight," she replied with a similar coldness.


The Lion and He Who Holds in Thrall had spoken of the Solar Exalted to me before. They were the greatest threat, nearly equal to my fellow Deathknights and I in every way. As the ultimate enemies to Oblivion, I was to eliminate any who I came across. The shrieks and hisses of He Who Holds in Thrall filled my mind as I battled the Golden Bull, commanding me to destroy her.


Our blades would meet several times once more, and we would both struck glancing blows. However, my cunning would win out, and as we locked blades yet again, I forced myself off a nearby tent pillar, throwing the Solar to the ground. With my blade to her throat, I called out once more to the Golden Bull.


"I will free you, Golden Bull, and each and every one of these slaves from the slavery of life."


The Zenith spat. "You of all couldn't possibly comprehend what slavery is."


My blood boiled. Who was this little girl, Solar or not, to be so insolent?


"For two decades I was a slave, little girl. Two decades of whippings. Two decades of near-starvation. Two decades of watching brothers and sisters succumb to despair and death. Who do you think you are to question me?"


The Zenith seemed perplexed. "You were a slave? And yet to free these slaves, you murder them as they lie helpless and terrified?"


For a moment I paused to consider her question, one that I had consider several times in the recent past. "There is no freedom without death," I replied with phrase that seemed as though it was taken directly from written book by Nephwrack priests of my Neverborn master. "The bonds of life constrain one far more than any shackles."


"Yet do you not remain a slave to your dark masters in the Underworld?" the Golden Bull parried, her eyes still fierce.


For a moment, I stood dumbstruck. The very idea that she might claim such was unthinkable, yet I had no answer. I could think of no response, words to deny this. He Who Holds in Thrall snarled and raged in the back of my mind, ordering me to kill the Zenith. With each thought questioning this, he raged more and more, projecting unspeakable horrors into my mind. And then, it was there. The tiniest of sparks, deep in my soul.


Hope.


For a moment, I could feel sliver of warmth in my cold, half-dead body. And then, in an instant, it was gone and I was empty once more. But despite that, I had learned a truth that now guides me - there is a way for me to become free once more.


"Free them," I spoke to the Zenith as I sheathed my blade and turned to walk away. "I will call off the Ghosts as best as I can. The slaves can live, but the guards and merchants must die."


With that, I sprinted away, ignoring the Zenith's calls. I could already feel the physical rage of He Who Holds in Thrall boiling in my mind. I would no doubt be punished greatly for my transgressions, and I did not wish to risk more. In the next hour I finished slaying the remnants of the free members of the caravan, leading the Hungry Ghosts away from the slaves as best as I could. I could not avoid more deaths in my departure, but many more lived as a result.


After the raid, I swiftly returned to the Thousand. When I reported the death of the Zenith I encountered, the Lion was visibly pleased. He immediately ordered me back into Creation with more troops to continue my raids, expecting even greater results. However, as I prepared to leave, I promised myself never to return again.


Hours after I re-entered Creation, I slew the Hungry Ghosts myself. Bloodied and battered, I turned and ran. I have not looked back.





-survives slave labor through sheer will and friends


-plays a major role in connecting most of the tribes in the camps for mutual survival


-helps lead a slave rebellion


-realm sends in a legion to put down the rebellion, a guerilla war breaks out


-lion offers him the last breath while he duels with a dragonblooded officer in a confrontation in a valley


-causes a lot of collateral damage in the fight, fellow slaves fear him and cast him out


-picked up by an agent of the lion in chiaroscuro after fleeing into the mountains to evade the Realm


-Goes into the Underworld, communes with He Who Holds in Thrall


-trained by the Lion, then sent back into Creation to harass merchant convoys to enable Lion's plans


-later attacks a massive convoy with a large army of ghosts, slaying everyone including slaves


-comes into contact with a Solar who had exalted as a Dawn in the Slave convoy at the very same time, duels


-Solar leads him to question what he's doing, especially the murder of slaves


-corners the Solar, but willingly allows him to escape; the Lion is told that the Solar escaped him but not that Scorpion allowed


-Scorpion goes renegade one month later


-continues to raid smaller caravans, freeing slaves


-becomes wanted, price on head


-present!
 
Name: The Scorpion Cast in Broken Chains


Concept: Slave-rebellion leader turned Renegade Abyssal


Caste: Dusk


Motivation: End slavery


Intimacies: Slavery (consuming hatred), the Enslaved (empathy), Peleps

My name is Scorpion. At another time, I was called The Scorpion Cast in Broken Chains, and in the beginning, a name I am beholden to remember no more.


In those early years, I remember one thing more than all else - freedom. Running on the slopes of Mqankki, stalking prey in the tall grasses of the valley Tisi, dancing with my brothers and sisters in our worship of Ahlat. These are just a few parts of me that have long since died.


I was born Brakhani, in a village that lie in the valley between the mountains E'Orivi, Mqankki, Saturi. Our cattle were healthy and our land was fertile, and though small, we prospered with trade. None of the three came natural to me, and since I was strong and quick, I was trained to be a warrior - defender of the village herd and taker of slaves. This is ironic to me, now.


At the culmination of my boyhood, I was given a knife and sent into the wilderness, not to return without the corpse of a leopard. On my second night, I witnessed a she-leopard fight off a pack of starving jackals, and I decided she would be my prey. For four more days and nights, I stalked the she-leopard, until cornering her at a waterfall. I attempted to close the distance in the shadows, but my skills were no match for her senses. She noticed me no less than ten paces away, and for what seemed forever, she met my gaze with her own golden eyes. In this moment, I could see and feel all that she was. The gates of my mind were opened.


Our eyes remained locked, and this trance might have continued had she not begun to stalk towards me. I stood, drawing my knife, and observed her, waiting for the moment she tensed to pounce. Eight paces. Five paces. Four paces. Three. And then, without forewarning, she leapt. I was surprised, yet, and if not the grace of Ahlat and the Sun I would have died. Tumbling to my right, I grabbed a low-hanging branch of nearby tree and hurdled myself up into its embrace. The she-leopard followed, though this time, I had a plan. Moving outward as the leopard leapt onto the branch, I cornered her once more, yet now between myself and the tree-trunk. Once more, she and I locked gazes, though at this time, I advanced. Snarling, she swiped a paw that could cover my face at me. Knife ready, I parried, my knife digging into her paw. Rage filled her as she pulled tight against the tree-trunk for a moment and then leapt at me once more. This time, I was prepared. Upwards I leapt, grabbing a branch above me and pulling my legs in to avoid her pounce. As she passed underneath me, and I released, turning to dig my dagger into the ridge of her back. She collapsed on top of the branch, and I soon moments after her. I was exhausted, and had made a mistake that nearly cost me my life, though I had passed the trial of manhood.


Upon return with the corpse of the she-leopard, a feast and ceremony was held honoring my ascension to manhood. Anointed with the blood of the she-leopard, I was now a free man.





From this moment on I would learn the ways of battle under my uncle, one of the leaders of our raiding parties. From him I would formally learn of wrestling, the use of the spear and the scythe, the bow, the sling, and the javelin. I would also learn the ways of working together with my brothers and sisters in fights and raids. We even went over what one might consider to be basic combat maneuvers and scenarios involving teamwork. Eventually, I would aid in their creation.


Throughout this entire time I participated as an active member in raids. I remember the the blood racing through my veins, the rush of battle, and the taking of spoils of victory all too well. Wholesale rape and pillaging was normal for us. The tribes we warred against were heathens and only sought to prey on us, so we were told. Remembrance of these times bring me shame, but such is necessary.


Our raids were not always successful, but we were strong, cunning, and many of us had much experience. These blessings would not save us when it truly mattered, though. At first, it was a normal raid, the Sun beginning his climb down from the Heavens. My brothers and I stalked through the great forest ascending Mount Saturi towards the borders of an Izhalvi village. There we would wait until dusk, at which point we would begin our attack.


No less than two hours away we we fell into the trap of several Izhalvi patrols. Though we fought fiercely, they outnumbered us greatly. Those of us who were not slain by the pit trap or hail of javelins either ran or were captured. I was amongst the last to fall into the pit, and while a small blessing, I was saved by the bodies of my brothers from the pointed stakes that filled its belly. As I attempted to find a way out of the pit, a rope was lassoed around my neck, wrenching me out the pit as the life was choked out of me. The last memory I have of this time was my vision fading as my hands were bound with rope.


The next morning, I was no longer free. For three days, the Izhalvi kept those of us survivors in an open cage in a corner of their village, as is customary. We were not the only slaves in this cage, nor the only Brakhani. I can still feel the sheer indignation that I felt in those first days, that somehow, I had been enslaved. It was impossible for me to accept. I had been raised and told that I would one day be a great warrior, a taker of many slaves. The risk of becoming one myself was always present, but never spoken of. And why would we? Such is shameful.


What hypocrisy.


At dawn on the third day, we were forced into smaller cages, where the Izhalvi bound us once more. It was obvious - we were being sold. My fellow Brakhani and I struggled as the Izhalvi separated us, trying in vain to protect those being beaten and pulled towards the smaller cages. Our bravery was foolhardiness that day, and with each struggle we were beaten and whipped more. Eventually we were all bound, and the Izhalvi brought us down to a road. Many of us were auctioned off to the first passersby. The Izhalvi were eager to get rid of us, it seemed. I waited and watched as most of my Brakhani brothers and sisters were sold off until a caravan came by with a large request and bought the rest of us. As the caravan spokesman and the Izhalvi Chief finalized the sale in a language I did not understand, we were dragged off to be thrown into boxed cart. I would not find out where this caravan was going until we had arrived.





When the cart finally stopped, the first thing I remember was the smell of smelters, the acrid smoke of mass ore refining filling my nose. It was a new sensation, a subtle poison working its way into me. I would know later that this was but one of many causes of the death of slaves. I asked my fellow Brakhani what it was, and received no answers. Some did not know, and those who knew would not speak, as if death would claim them otherwise. Without notice, the door of the cart was opened, and we were forcefully removed one by one. As I was pulled away from my fellow Brakhani, I screamed at a guard who yanked a the ropes bound to my shackled hands and feat to tell me where they had taken us. Laughing with a sick pleasure, the guard responded as he whipped me.


"Welcome to Bent Creek!"


Bent Creek. A name only heard in the hushed whispers between elders. My village being isolated, few there truly knew what happened at this place but all who recognized the name knew it to mean one thing - death.


A small "city," if one could call it that, composed of an exploding mining community drawn by huge Jade deposits, Bent Creek relies heavily on slaves to extract the material from the mountainside. Slaves in Bent Creek are tools - used until broken, withered, or dead, and then cast aside as waste, only to be replaced by a new tool. It is a machine built on and fueled by pain and suffering - a machine that I would spend the next nineteen summers of my life as a part of, toiling away through blistering heat, freezing winds, and everything in between.


The first few years were perhaps the hardest of them all. Slaves eat once per day - twice on the rare feast day.


- Note: Time Difference! -





After several months of training, the Lion decided to send me into Creation on orders to raid trade convoys on the Deep Desert Road. His instructions were simple - disrupt as much as possible while avoiding overt attention, and leave no survivors. The specific choice of targets was left for me to decide, as were my methods. It was a test of sorts, one with an outcome the Lion would not expect. Nor I.


Given access to a widespread access of spies and a Talon of Hungry Ghosts, I entered Creation and began preparations. From the beginning, my targets had been slave convoys. I had my own reasons, as should be obvious enough, but what better way to quietly sabotage Gem than to disrupt the movement of human resources?


The first raids were simple. We attacked by night, targeting small caravans in no man's land between villages. A small distraction here, the assassination of a pair of guards there, followed up by the slaughter and razing of the whole caravan. Soldiers, merchants, slaves. They all died. Though I felt initial restraint in killing the slaves, I was continually reminded of the words He Who Holds in Thrall whispered into my ears:


"THERE IS NO GREATER SLAVERY THAN EXISTENCE"


Surely, the slaves would know this too, once in the Underworld. They would understand this gift of mine to them. The terror on their faces, their screams for mercy - all misunderstandings. They would accept this. They had to.


How blind I was.





With confidence in my own performance, I decided to tackle a larger caravan. I believed showing my ambition would surely impress the Lion. Rather, it would be the beginning of something far larger than I might have be able to realize at the time.


In the beginning, the raid was routine. Mortal scouts tracked the caravan and observed it for several days, reporting back to me with specifics about the mercenary guards, observed cargo, and the caravan's behaviors. Once satisfied, I set my plan into motion. Removing the first few patrols myself, I proceeded to set fire to the tents and wagons on the eastern portion of their camp.


As their troops rushed to respond, I moved north and released the first group of Hungry Ghosts from their salt-line pens. Thoroughly enraged from my beatings and their starvation, they surged into the camp, howling as they rampaged unchecked. As soon as they were released, I head west, where I unleashed the remainder of the Ghosts and charged forward with them. though they easily outnumbered us, we caught the mercenaries by surprise.


It was a bloodbath. Screams rang through the camp, human and ghost alike. It was a vortex of death and destruction, and I stood in its center. And then, something interesting happened. As I proceeded to kill slaves bound in one of the larger tents, a fang of mercenaries rushed in to attack me. With a few quick strokes of my blade, they were nearly all slain. The last mortal soldier remained standing, having parried my strike. A pretty little thing, I thought, but she must go.


I thrust my blade at her once more, and yet again, she parried. Again. And again. And again. This was new. I had yet to come across a mortal would was so capable in defending herself. And then, as we locked blades once more, a brilliant light erupted from her forehead. A burning, golden brand of Essence.


"A Golden Bull," I spoke to the Zenith, a cold hatred in my voice. "I was not expecting one of your kind to greet me so openly. My liege will reward me handsomely for your demise."


"You can try, Deathknight," she replied with a similar coldness.


The Lion and He Who Holds in Thrall had spoken of the Solar Exalted to me before. They were the greatest threat, nearly equal to my fellow Deathknights and I in every way. As the ultimate enemies to Oblivion, I was to eliminate any who I came across. The shrieks and hisses of He Who Holds in Thrall filled my mind as I battled the Golden Bull, commanding me to destroy her.


Our blades would meet several times once more, and we would both struck glancing blows. However, my cunning would win out, and as we locked blades yet again, I forced myself off a nearby tent pillar, throwing the Solar to the ground. With my blade to her throat, I called out once more to the Golden Bull.


"I will free you, Golden Bull, and each and every one of these slaves from the slavery of life."


The Zenith spat. "You of all couldn't possibly comprehend what slavery is."


My blood boiled. Who was this little girl, Solar or not, to be so insolent?


"For two decades I was a slave, little girl. Two decades of whippings. Two decades of near-starvation. Two decades of watching brothers and sisters succumb to despair and death. Who do you think you are to question me?"


The Zenith seemed perplexed. "You were a slave? And yet to free these slaves, you murder them as they lie helpless and terrified?"


For a moment I paused to consider her question, one that I had consider several times in the recent past. "There is no freedom without death," I replied with phrase that seemed as though it was taken directly from written book by Nephwrack priests of my Neverborn master. "The bonds of life constrain one far more than any shackles."


"Yet do you not remain a slave to your dark masters in the Underworld?" the Golden Bull parried, her eyes still fierce.


For a moment, I stood dumbstruck. The very idea that she might claim such was unthinkable, yet I had no answer. I could think of no response, words to deny this. He Who Holds in Thrall snarled and raged in the back of my mind, ordering me to kill the Zenith. With each thought questioning this, he raged more and more, projecting unspeakable horrors into my mind. And then, it was there. The tiniest of sparks, deep in my soul.


Hope.


For a moment, I could feel sliver of warmth in my cold, half-dead body. And then, in an instant, it was gone and I was empty once more. But despite that, I had learned a truth that now guides me - there is a way for me to become free once more.


"Free them," I spoke to the Zenith as I sheathed my blade and turned to walk away. "I will call off the Ghosts as best as I can. The slaves can live, but the guards and merchants must die."


With that, I sprinted away, ignoring the Zenith's calls. I could already feel the physical rage of He Who Holds in Thrall boiling in my mind. I would no doubt be punished greatly for my transgressions, and I did not wish to risk more. In the next hour I finished slaying the remnants of the free members of the caravan, leading the Hungry Ghosts away from the slaves as best as I could. I could not avoid more deaths in my departure, but many more lived as a result.


After the raid, I swiftly returned to the Thousand. When I reported the death of the Zenith I encountered, the Lion was visibly pleased. He immediately ordered me back into Creation with more troops to continue my raids, expecting even greater results. However, as I prepared to leave, I promised myself never to return again.


Hours after I re-entered Creation, I slew the Hungry Ghosts myself. Bloodied and battered, I turned and ran. I have not looked back.





-survives slave labor through sheer will and friends


-plays a major role in connecting most of the tribes in the camps for mutual survival


-helps lead a slave rebellion


-realm sends in a legion to put down the rebellion, a guerilla war breaks out


-lion offers him the last breath while he duels with a dragonblooded officer in a confrontation in a valley


-causes a lot of collateral damage in the fight, fellow slaves fear him and cast him out


-picked up by an agent of the lion in chiaroscuro after fleeing into the mountains to evade the Realm


-Goes into the Underworld, communes with He Who Holds in Thrall


-trained by the Lion, then sent back into Creation to harass merchant convoys to enable Lion's plans


-later attacks a massive convoy with a large army of ghosts, slaying everyone including slaves


-comes into contact with a Solar who had exalted as a Dawn in the Slave convoy at the very same time, duels


-Solar leads him to question what he's doing, especially the murder of slaves


-corners the Solar, but willingly allows him to escape; the Lion is told that the Solar escaped him but not that Scorpion allowed


-Scorpion goes renegade one month later


-continues to raid smaller caravans, freeing slaves


-becomes wanted, price on head


-present!
 



This is an eternal draft, expect me to Edit it ad nauseam.


------------------------------------------------------------------


A trial is being held in Great Forks, the City of Temples.


The crowd has gathered in the small square, where the voice of the judge roars fiercely.


"The defendant must answer of a number of heinous charges, including but not limited to theft, fraud, grand larceny, grand blasphemy, smuggling, arson, unlawful impersonation of Gods, sale of fake devotion candles, breach of peace, drunk diving, undue scare of orphanages, cleric kidnapping, unlawful public wedgie of Thrull, Dark Harbringer of Doom, jaywalking, forging, circumvention of pilgrim and attempt to invade the nighttime intimacy of Voluria, Goddess of Chastity.


What do you have to say in your defense?"


Romeo, shackled arms and ankles, stares at the judge, unimpressed.


"Meh... 'attempt'..."


The judge snarls, two threatening lines of serrated teeth pulling together.


He leans forward, his forehead almost touching the prisoner's.


Romeo can feel the smell of fat and sweat, the heat of his body, the smell of his last meal.


"You think you can defy this court, La Notte... I wish we could execute you all the times you deserve, but likely you will die this very night as soon as you enter the prison... Soooo many people in line to have you gutted."


"Indeed.


This is why I shall excuse myself and leave your lovely company.


My heart weeps."


Among the surprise and disappointment of the crowd, free like a fly and fast like an eel, the man zips away.


"TAKE HIM!" yells the judge, but as soon as he tries to follow ahead, he trips badly, his hands and feet shackled.


The guards run, but after only a few minutes there is no trace of the scoundrel.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Name Romeo La Notte


Concept Charming scoundrel


Motivation Expose the secrets of the powerful


Caste Night


Flaw Heart of Tears


DESCRIPTION


He is a compassionate character, but rather reckless, arrogant, bold and independent.


INTIMACIES

Code: 
ATTRIBUTES                                              12xp
   Strength            oe
   Dexterity           ooooo
   Stamina             oe

   Charisma            oooo
   Manipulation        ooo
   Appearance          oooo

   Perception          ooo
   Intelligence        oe
   Wits                ooooo



ABILITIES                                       13 BPs
F   Archery             o
   Martial Arts        
   Melee               
F   Thrown              ooo
   War                 

   Integrity           o
   Performance         
F   Presence            o
   Resistance          
   Survival            

   Craft
F   Investigation       ooo
   Lore                o
   Medicine            
   Occult              

C   Athletics           ooooo
C   Awareness           ooooo
C   Dodge               ooooo
C   Larceny             ooooo
C   Stealth             ooooo

   Burocracy           
   Linguistics         ooo
   Ride                
   Sail                
F   Socialize           ooo




VIRTUES, WILLPOWER, ESSENCE                     2BP
Compassion     ooo
Convinction    oo
Temperance     o
Valor          ooo

Willpower      ooooo oo

Essence        oo





BACKGROUNDS                                               1BP
Artifact        ooo             Flying Tear
Artifact        oo              Ori Bracers
Manse           o               Gem of Flying Heart
Fame            o
Contacts        o




CHARMS
Inv II
.Crafty Obs Method              Inv3

Graceful Crane Stance           Ath1
Thrown II
Shadow Over Water               Dod3

Flawless P Tech                 Lar2
Larceny II

Easily Overl
.Inv Statue Spirit              Ste3

Mastery of Small Manners        Soc2

Flying Tear


Artifact ooo


Speed 3 Acc+3 Dam+1L Rate:1 Range:50 Attune:1


A small kunai with 50m of unbreakable, retractable rope.


Mechanically similar to the Gauntlets of Distant Claws (Oadenol p37) for what concerns conceal capabilities and ranged use, but considered a throw weapon with lesser stats and no melee capabilities, which means no parry.


The weapon is mainly in orichalcum, but coated with a moonsilver/starmetal alloy so that when not used looks like a brass bracelet and registers as mundane to Essence Sight.
 
Looking for a Nocturnals game, would anyone be interested in running?


I can bring in myself, and maybe 1-2 other players.


And I'm hoping this is the best place to post to gauge interest.


Thanks for reading to the end!
 
Here are the humble beginnings of my first made Exalt: A lunar. I made her so she can be put on whatever adventure she ends up on. I´ll post her stats later.


Name: Balanced Blaze Of Blue Beauty


Caste: Changing Moon


Motivation: Find the boy and save him. Hunt the arson. Rebuild both farms into one.

Once, there were two neighbouring farms.


In one farm, there lived a girl that happily danced amongst the silver reflections of the moon that fell from the many flowers and leaves of her land´s crops. She could do so, since her parents were prosperous. In the other, there lived a boy. He toiled endleslly under the golden rays of the sun that seemed to fall on his very person, blinding and tirng him all the time, yet he had to work, since his parents were miserable.


One day, the boy looked at the girl, and desired her, but as young and innocent as she was, she failed to reciprocate. Both their parents looked at this, and understood too well, desiring none of it. She remained locked on her room confused about why he couldn´t make friends with the sun-touched boy. He cried under an old tree that night, hidden from the stars and the moon and his parents, but they fate decreed something else to find him.


She woke up, choking to the smell of smoke and she ran, ignorant of the fate that had fallen on the rest of the family, taken in their sleeps by the black smoke. She ran, ignorant of the cursed fire that consumed her house. She ran to his neighbour´s lands, looking for help, and the fire followed through, clinging to her dress. She ran to the forest, when both farms burnt to ashes, and she shed her burning clothes when they enveloped her.


The white man ran with her. He gave her a new coat, and much more than that. Follow the trail, he said. She didn´t notice, as she took the new road, that he was crying behind that smile, as he rubbed his belly. She ran to the old tree, and in the cracked shell laying there, she found his smell. Days later, she was found and tatooed by a pack of very tired Lunars, who had followed her when they came across a beautiful red fox, who left a thin strand of smoke wherever she jumped.


She has been under the care of the Silver Pact ever since, but deep inside, she knows the boy is still alive, and that the thing that burned down her farm is alive too. She won´t rest until he saves the first, and hunts the second, even though she ignores the two of them could be one person...
 
Attributes:


Strength 2 Dexterity 4 Stamina 4 Charisma 3 Manipulation 4 Appearance 4 Perception 2 Intelligence 3 Wits 3


Abilities:


Archery 3 Athletics 2 Awareness 1 Dodge 3 Melee 2 Resistance 3 Linguistics 3 Socialize 2 Survival 3 Lore 2 Medicine 1


Essence: 2 Personal Essence: 16 Peripheral Essence: 32


Health levels:


Oi Bruised []


1i Hurt [][]


2i Wounded [][][][][][]


4i Crippled []


Incapacitated []


Dying [][][][]


Social Traits:


Dodge MDV:4 Join Combat:3


Willpower:6


Virtues:


Compassion 3 Temperance 1 Conviction 2 Valor 3


Virtue Flaw: The Curse of the Whipped Dog


Charms:


Humble Mouse Shape


Subtle Silver Declaration


First Manipulation Excelency


Graceful Crane Stance


Ox-Body Technique


Mask of White Jade


Butterfly Eyes Tread


Hide of the Cunning Hunter


Deadly Beastman Transformation


Backgrounds:


Manse 1 Allies 1 Contacts 2 Mentor 2 Resources 3 Reputation 1 Heart´s Blood 2 Known forms: An Orange Fox, a Grey Cat, a Mouse, and a Red Squirrel


Description:


Age, Actual: 16 ,Apparent:16


Height:1m 35 cm


Gender: Female


Tell: Orange Fox Ears and Tail, and a thin strand of smoke that follows her around and quickly dissolves.


She has alluring blue eyes, long and bright orange hair and her white skin is always well cleaned and perfumed, sometimes even in the deepest wilderness.
 
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