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 Power and survival go hand in hand. That has always been our way. The strong can negotiate, can fight, can take. The weak rely solely on the mercy of the strong. We are strong, we must be strong, or we will not survive. In the west, there is the land of two rivers, where the Lords of Night hold sway. But they are not our gods, and those they send to us we are strong enough to talk to, not be dominated by. In the east, the City rises like a shining gem. But its people are weak. They rely on strange powers and stranger tools to be strong. We do not need these things. That is what we tell our people, but some do waver. It is hard to be strong. Some are tempted by the power of the Lords of Night, giving themselves to worship for protection. Others envy the luxuries of the City. If we are to survive, we must show them they are wrong. We must show them that strength is the best of these options. Among us are those who speak of the God-Machine, the City's secret lord. Perhaps we can fight that. Perhaps we cannot. And there are those that speak of alliance with the Akkadians and the dark princes. Perhaps it is worthwhile. Perhaps not. But you stand as our leaders, the council of elders. You must lead us now, to strength, whatever that means for us. Never doubt your purpose, lords. Only then will we truly be lost. Who are you? You are the movers and shakers in a sept of nomadic tribesmen in the Bronze Age Middle East. Their kin are werewolves - but you may not be a werewolf. While most who lead are, they are not alone these days. A few vampires turn against the Akkadians in search of greater freedom to use their power, while others hope to ally themselves with the werewolves in order to increase their influence in the Empire of Night. Some demons, fallen from the service of the God-Machine, secretly join these septs to use them against the City. Their children, the potent Nephilim, often rise to prominence as well, given their sheer power. What are you going to do? You are going to lead your sept to strength, whatever that means for you. You, as a group, must decide what is best for them and deal with the many threats of the Bronze Age world - angels, vampires, werewolves, secretive demons, men of power and stranger monsters. The spirits around you may be allies or enemies as well. All but demons can be open about their power, however. Men know that these monsters exist, and only demons must hide, that the God-Machine does not track them down and purge them or restore them to 'proper' service. And even then...well, there are many excuses for having strange power. You don't have to know a lot about the real world Bronze Age, besides this: Forged iron is exceptionally rare, the knowledge of how to make it held only by certain Demons and Changelings. (Due to lack of 2e rules, Changelings and Mages are not currently playable.) That said: it is important to try to fit the world. This is not the modern era. The Computers skill does not exist. Firearms does, though, and is used for bows and crossbows as well as the strange weapons of the City. Likewise, Drive covers horses as well as the strange vehicles of the City. The Science skill does exist, however. It is not of use to most characters outside dealing with strange City-craft or mundane alchemy (read: basic chemistry), but it's there. PC Options: Werewolf (Forsaken or Pure), Vampire, Demon, Nephillim. If you really want to play a lesser mortal, like a Wolf-Blood, Ghoul, Hunter or Stigmatic, talk to me and I'll figure out a way to keep you closer to par, but you're still going to be weaker than the main four. Special: As members of the sept, non-werewolves may still take up to two dots of Totem if they normally could not. The resources you will want: the CofD core, the Demon ST's Guide, the core book for whatever group you want to play as (Nephilim use the ST's Guide), and the docs I've made for Vampires and Werewolves: Wolf Lords and Enuma Elish. If you need help getting these resources or with anything else, contact me on SynIRC, #persona or #giantsinearth. E: Also, PBP. Six or so players? Mors Rattus fucked around with this message at 23:53 on Jan 25, 2016 |
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Jan 24, 2016 20:40
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Thinking of a Daeva charismatic warleader, that sort of thing. That seem to fit with what you're looking for in the game?
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Jan 25, 2016 02:58
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Sounds interesting. Thinging ether Demon or Nephilem. Will need to pick up the storytellers guide first though for the latter.
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Jan 25, 2016 03:24
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Valhawk posted:Thinking of a Daeva charismatic warleader, that sort of thing. That seem to fit with what you're looking for in the game? I'd have to see more details but I don't see why it'd be automatically not okay. (Hopefully I get some wolves, though, along with vamps.)
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Jan 25, 2016 04:33
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Definitely some interest in wolf-based shenanigans here, just gotta re-familiarize myself with Forsaken 2.0.
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Jan 25, 2016 23:44
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Mors Rattus posted:Nephallim Arashiofordo3 posted:Nephilem NEPHILIM. N E P H I L I M Yue fucked around with this message at 23:47 on Jan 25, 2016 |
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Jan 25, 2016 23:45
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i don't know what you're talking about, my post clearly says nephilim
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Jan 25, 2016 23:46
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Considering an Elodoth diplomat-type character, though I'm imagining him pulling his fur out every crisis when no one actually wants a diplomatic solution...
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Jan 26, 2016 04:02
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Oh right, I should note. The Resources merit does not exist. If you want great personal wealth, then I'll dig out the homebrew Filthy Rich merit, but by and large, the sept takes care of your basic needs. You can afford a good weapon and some half-decent armor if you want and are a warrior of some type.
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Jan 26, 2016 05:42
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Hazi the Kinslayer, Rahu Bronze Master It is a fine day! The life-giving sun is high, my belly is full, and my people are safe. I am to join the council soon, and I could not be prouder. Ever since the First Change, when I hunted my own brother and became a kinslayer as well as a terrible beast, I have struggled to earn the respect of the tribe, and not just their fear. They can never know that I killed him for betraying the people to our enemies, for that would also implicate several of the (now deceased, by my own hands) elders in the disastrous raid that followed. So I bear this shame in silence and even, when I am called to do so in service to our people, use it to my advantage. The more honor-bound are quick to dismiss or underestimate ones perceived as weak, after all. I am not the strongest, nor the fastest, nor the wisest, but I am a servant of the Laws, so I do my duty: I kill the tribe's enemies, no matter who they are. It seems I am finally to be recognized for it. My old friend--one of my very few--Mashda comes up to greet and congratulate me as I make my way through the camp. He is still limping from where the spear skewered his leg. I can use that. A quick strike to the wound and he doubles over. My fist waits, drives the bone of his nose through his skull. Can't give him time to Change. My only chance. I clasp his arms and thank him for the well wishes, and I promise him that we will toast the ancestors later. My young cousin, one of the only ones who doesn't hold themselves at a distance from me, hears me and comes over and asks if I would do him the honor of allowing him to join us. No doubt he is reminiscing of the mischief we got up to last time we drank together. He is a hunter, not a fighter. Charge at him like an angry boar. He braces himself. Stop at the last second, spin to attack him from the side. He staggers. Drive the blade into his chest, higher than an animal would attack. Defends himself a second too slow. “Of course!” I tell him, smiling broadly. “You are always welcome with us, cousin. Until then, go find out if Old Man Minesh has any dye left. I have a plan.” I finish with a conspiratorial wink, and he laughs. I am almost at the council when I see Namtilla across the path. She is not the most beautiful girl in the village, nor the hardiest, but she is the one who always smiles and waves at me, and today is no exception. I walk over. She has seen my heart. She knows how I would kill her if I had to. And still she smiles and waves. Why? So I will marry her. Neutralize the threat. I give her a pretty bauble I took in a raid. She pretends not to notice the dried blood on it, smiles. My heart skips. I shake the vision off. It is at its worst when I see her. Sometimes, during the quietest hours of the night, I regret what my strength has forged me into, but when my tribe may call upon me to kill anyone at any moment, what choice do I have? I am a killer, and that is what they require me to be. It is not my place to desire to be something else. And yet the ache of loss is there, all the same. ---------------- Other stuff: Hazi's spiritual touchstone is a shadow that looks just like him, but is happier and more at peace. It is usually seen doing a variety of activities he has considered pursuing instead of fighting, from singing and dancing to herding and raising children. The physical touchstone is a treasured amulet made by the brother he killed. Allies are the other non-PC members of the tribe Hazi has managed to bond with, and Status represents him being on the council and having pull there. I went back and forth among a couple different Auspices and Tribes, so if there are any mistakes on the character sheet, that's probably why. Orbs fucked around with this message at 20:02 on Jan 26, 2016 |
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Jan 26, 2016 06:10
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You don't need Status with the sept unless you want to be respected and obeyed above and beyond 'you are one of the people on the council of elders,' PCs will already be in charge of the group by default and I don't like to make people spend points on something that is required by the game's concept.
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Jan 26, 2016 17:09
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looks like this will be full so I will step out.
Senior Scarybagels fucked around with this message at 03:15 on Jan 27, 2016 |
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Jan 26, 2016 17:29
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Mors Rattus posted:You don't need Status with the sept unless you want to be respected and obeyed above and beyond 'you are one of the people on the council of elders,' PCs will already be in charge of the group by default and I don't like to make people spend points on something that is required by the game's concept.
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Jan 26, 2016 20:01
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 Izila, daughter of Sura-Shul, Shadow on the Sands Mine is the strength of the desert. Unrelenting, inexorable. My prey dies at my hands, though they will not know it. I am the Shadow on the Sands, and my strength keeps this pack going. I carry the burden of leadership, but I carry it so we all live in safety and prosperity. I make the sacrifice the others do not have to. I make the decisions others can or will not. The knife of the tribe. Of course, this does not mean necessarily that I am loved. My father, curse his yellow hide, thinks the power I wield should be his. Half-blessed as he is, he sees me as nothing but a vessel for his own voice. Boisterous and loud is he, invoking my name as if he is fit to wield its authority. But he digs a well where there is no water. I shall not allow him to undermine the way this tribe works with his false dreams, no matter how loud he speaks. Others, too, would rather see me away from the seat. They claim I spend too much time in the desert, away from the tribe. Yet they do not know it is precisely this that lets them be safe. I watch for ancient powers, those who would seek to subvert and destroy. So when I return, and then exercise my power, I must sometimes employ fear, and wrath. Let them fear me, then. Let them hate. As long as they heed my counsel. Wahad fucked around with this message at 22:59 on Jan 26, 2016 |
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Jan 26, 2016 22:28
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Serafiel, the Wheel The behavior of all beings is focused on the accumulation of resources. We start with the important ones: food, water, a means of defense, all that an organism needs to sustain it's own life. From there we move on to less important items; luxury goods, spices, well-crafted textiles, exotic foods, fermented drinks, fine pottery, beautiful metals and stones. For some creatures, other things are needed. The dead have no need for food or water (despite what many religions might think), but they, too, have their own strings to be pulled. The God-Machine is no different. It's materials are simply more esoteric. Souls, for one thing. Few humans require a steady stockpile of souls and ghosts on hand. Of course, those humans would probably get as much use out of it as the God-Machine did. Do you have any idea how many caches of "needed goods" went abandoned and forgotten? So much time spent bringing them together, and for what? Nobody made use of them. Nobody made them worthwhile. Nobody profited. Once I spent years setting up a serious of circumstances to ensure a caravan from the far east would get lost, laden with a strange but wonderful cloth, all to ensure it would end up in our City. And after years of toil, what happened? Three strong men were put in the cloth and burned for a ritual. Three strong men, still useful, still filled with many more years of labor. Destroyed. Along with my silk. The God-Machine is foolish, overcome and obsessed with whatever designs it cares not to share - a blind, idiot king. Why should we dance to it's drum? Sure, it is POWERFUL - but does that mean it is wise? Were it as brilliant as it is worshiped, surely no Unchained could exist. Surely none would ever want or need to fall from grace! And if it is so foolish, who is to say others wouldn't know more? Others like... Sorry. Let me start over. Nikanuur, the Let us begin with what the wolves know. That I have had dealings with the outskirts of The City (true, by technicality). That I am skilled in numbers and writing in ways few of their kin are (true, and not a hard claim to make either). That I would join their clan and their people willingly, to help them, to live with them, to be amongst their family (true). That I believed the city to be a great trap, to draw men in and bind them inside, as a predator would (mostly true; this is a matter of knowledge, not belief, but there is so MUCH knowledge I cannot share). That I had no burdens to keep me back, no family awaiting me, no child who needs my labor to feed them (true). That I am but a man; no great warrior or hero (false; I am more then just a man). That my only desire is to serve the tribe and join it as a family (both false and true; I want so much more then that, but all that I would do would aid them in the end). It was enough to gain acceptance. I am, after all, in all ways that they would care about, human. I smell human, act human, probably taste human, though let us never discover THAT first hand. The wolves are great warriors, but they cannot bring the metals needed to forge a sword. They are great hunters, but animals are not filled with grain. And that's where I step in. Men cannot subsist on meat alone, both literally and figuratively, and so they need others with my talents of procuring. I have, since joining their clan, tried to make them understand. The City is not a beast to be stalked and preyed on. The Lords of the Night, for all their various other missteps, understand - The City can only be destroyed by another of it's kind. Some understand - the "Bronze Masters" have been the most receptive - but so many others do not. My allies take my words to heart; let us settle. They know of fences, but fences are gates as well, and we will hold the keys. Let us rival Akkad and the City. The humans of our flock would not be so eager to leave if we could prove to them that civilization does not require the thirst, lust, and greed of Akkad, nor the submission and control of the God-Machine! Alas, for so many, all my words do is steel their heart and make them believe tenfold that this is a war to be fought with tooth and claw. They remind me of so many other Unchained, lashing out, desperately trying to destroy what cannot be killed. I would know. I set up the Infrastructure that keeps them back. But things have begun to change. Maybe soon, they will allow me to create ourselves a settlement. It may begin small, some fields to graze on, some houses that aren't tents and don't move. Everything starts small. But I have my dreams, my ambitions. I see myself with all the fineries this life could offer, in a grand house, with many servants, dining on spiced meats, sipping drinks to glaze my thoughts. And I see hundreds of others like myself doing the same! Let us not try to bash our heads into the walls of the City, but make a new one, a city so grand no angel could enter and leave without considering rebellion! We will build our Hell yet. ProfessorCirno fucked around with this message at 06:13 on Feb 6, 2016 |
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Jan 26, 2016 23:31
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Eulli, the Scholar While as of late the Dead Kings have offered their blessings in greater and greater numbers, Eulli is of the time before that, when immortality was offered far more sparingly. Eulli hails from Akkad proper, a scholar associated with the Speakers to Darkness, though he does not speak of his past except to those in the sept he most trusts. While he spent most of his unlife as a demigod in the greatest of the seven cities, Eulli's undoing was ironically his lack of ambition. Where his compatriots delved into dark and bloody sorcery to gain temporal power, Eulli cared more for pure knowledge. He wrote treatises on spirits and the divine condition, and disseminated his findings freely to his covenant brothers and sisters, hoping to avoid political entanglements by virtue of being an asset to the Speakers as a whole. Unfortunately, while he didn't have many enemies, he similarly lacked staunch allies, and when one of his more ambitious contemporaries used him as a patsy for serious violations of covenant law, there were few willing to step forward in his defence. Ultimately, the cloud of scandal proved too much, and Eulli went into self-imposed exile from Akkadian Empire to avoid more serious punishment. However, this did not diminish Eulli's thirst for knowledge. He had heard of nomadic tribes with powerful spirits as patrons, and resolved to study them further. And besides, having unique research to offer could smooth his passage back into Akkadian academia in a few centuries when his current difficulties have blown over. After a few years of wandering, he eventually settled on a nomadic sept said to have a very potent patron spirit. Knowing his monstrous appearance would make an open approach difficult, he bided his time and approached the patron spirit itself, asking for permission to join its tribe. It is unclear why the spirit acquiesced, though the sept members closest to their patron suspect he offered knowledge of the banes and bans of several of its rivals. And such was how Eulli became a member of the sept, where he has remained for nearly a century. With his horrifying visage, foreign ways, and strange questions, he was not exactly welcomed with open arms, but he had studied the ways of healing in Akkad and showed uncanny insight into the ways of spirits. Over the decades, while he was never really liked, he found himself in a position of respect. He was a monster, perhaps, but he was the sept's monster. For his part, Eulli has learned a great deal in his time with the sept, but he's also grown fond of his new home. He's seen most of the sept grow from childhood, and he remembers their every foible and advancement. There is a strange sort of accomplishment in that knowledge. Apirations
Etum, Ubarum, and Ahum Touchstone A family line of apprentices, with rudimentary training in healing. Unsurprisingly, a face like Eulli's is not a welcome sight at the sickbed, so the scholar taught a succession of tribesmen the basics for treating most of the common ailments found in the sept. Etum, Ubarum, and Ahum are grandfather, father, and son - the currently living members of a chain stretching back another two generations. For the most part, none of them were terribly bright; Eulli picked their great-great-grandfather for his ability to follow instructions without improvisation. However, the youngest of them, Ahum, shows actual potential. Should he continue showing potential, when he is old enough Eulli is seriously considering ghouling Ahum and teaching him more advanced knowledge. Green Bean fucked around with this message at 20:46 on Jan 28, 2016 |
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Jan 27, 2016 00:47
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 Kian, The Spirit Speaker The world we live in, the one we see and hear and touch, that is all the human mind can comprehend. Oh, if they could only see a fraction of the truth! For there is another world, the Hisil, inhabited by Ensahim, the spirits. This world is just as real as the mortal world, though the Shadow leaves no trace to those who cannot conceive of it. But to those of us who can walk between worlds, the indescribable juxtaposition is not only a vital part of life, but maybe the most important part there is. The spirits are the key, you see. They talk to me, I pass on those words to the Sept, and so the cycle goes on! Kian has served the Sept, as Shaman, for as long as most mortals can remember. He consoles the bereaved by speaking with the spirits of the dead, helps the herdsmen protect their animals from angry spectres and leads all the people of the tribe in their worship, rituals and feasts. He is not a learned man of science, but he possesses an almost unmatched knowledge of the Shadow realm, and the way the supernatural collides with the realm of men. He serves on the Council with pride, and freely offers his advice and his aid to any in the Sept who would ask of it. Lastly, and most importantly, it is he who holds the ritual knowledge necessary to call down the Siskur-Dah, the Sacred Hunt. Those who have spoken to him describe him as a calm, measured man, whose advice is always delivered in even, patient tones. Slow to pass judgement, and even slower to anger, he seems an island of serenity in the chaos of life in the wastes. Those who know him well, however, tell a slightly different story - a story of a man struggling to remain in balance with himself, resisting the pull of the spirit world with great reluctance in order to tend to the Sept's needs. His calm demeanour hides the battle with the feral beast within, and his closest friends tell of him retiring to his tent to light incense and converse with his spirit friend, whilst devouring hunks of raw, bloody meat. The battle between wolf and man rages in Kian's soul, and in these trying times maintaining a balance may no longer be possible... ForeverBWFC fucked around with this message at 03:16 on Jan 27, 2016 |
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Jan 27, 2016 03:13
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Ekur Ekur didn’t grow up with the Sept. He grew up in the plains, among the tribes and the wolves, but his family was a different one. His childhood would seem familiar to any of the tribe members, similar to their own. He was raised in a tribe of great warriors renowned for their strength who in their hubris thought they could raid the outskirts of Akkad. Once, twice, three time they escaped mostly unscathed. However, in their greed they sought more, more spoils, more fame, and that was their undoing. Whether this was all an elaborate trap to lure them in will never be known, but when the tribe attacked the fourth time they were massacred. Ekur was already a man by this point, young and eager to earn his name, with aspirations, and a rival of his own. That fateful night, his world was destroyed, his tribe slaughtered, his family erased from the world. Of the entire tribe only two were spared, Ekur and his most hated rival, Ilku. Perhaps it was their strength, or their youth, or some other thing that drew the eyes of one of the Lord’s of the Night. Whatever it was he had chosen them, and in their eyes he shone like the sun a force of terrible power and glory, very much the god the undead claimed to be. He worked them into a frenzy and released them on each other. In the end, he stopped the bout before a fatal blow could be struck, but Ekur stood over his rival, bloodied but victorious. It would seem that the entire affair was a test, a means to determine which of the two barbarians would be blessed with the dark gift. It was that very night that Ekur died. Awaking, Ekur found himself attended by his sire’s cultists, for the first time in his life, or his unlife as it were, he was pampered, waited on hand and foot, by these men and women eager to attempt to curry favor with their God’s new favorite. If his tribesmen had seen him they would have laughed or scolded him, admonishing him against such weakness, but to his shame Ekur enjoyed it, reveled in it even. Of course his time in Akkad wasn’t all fun and games. His sire had plans for him, and made him train daily in his new skills and talents to fight with superlative strength, to bend the minds and hearts of mortals to his will, to hunt and to feed. Ekur never even thought of objecting, the Blood and his sire’s glorious radiance wiped such thoughts from his head. Time passed this way several years. Finally, a test. His old rival, his one connection to his home, was brought before him, he was emaciated, weak, but still defiant. Ekur’s sire left simple instructions, his childe was tasked with breaking this man, remaking him into a servant and priest, the first he would permit Ekur. Ekur was hesitant at first, Ilku might have been his rival but he was the last of his old family. However, the words of his beloved sire ringing in his ears, Ekur set to work, using all the power he had gained and all he had learned. It was a long and slow process, and one that broke the last bonds to his home, no doubt just as his sire intended. In the end, however, Ilku for all stubbornness and all his will was no match for Ekur’s Majesty or the Blood. When Ekur was finished, his onetime rival looked up at him, awe and love obvious on his features. He worshiped at the feet of his new god, swearing eternal fealty, and was rewarded with the transformation into Ekur’s first ghoul. Many years passed after that night, Ekur lived among the all-night society in all its power and all its debauchery. He grew used to being attended to by fanatical cultists, to being a god among men, his loyal priest always at his side. He barely even thought about his old life, his old home. That all came crashing down one night. Politics in between the bloody rivers are a fickle thing, and one who might be a powerful Lord one night will be cast down the next. So it was for Ekur’s sire. It happened so fast that Ekur barely knew what had happened. Only a letter from his sire warning him to flee, he returned to his home to find it in flames, enforcers of the Dead Kings all about. Ekur fled, as fast as he could, as far as he could. He went to the only place left to him now, the plains and the septs. Of course, his tribe was destroyed, but he returned to the old grounds only to find them occupied. He knew the signs of a raid camp when he saw one. It had been years, but with Ilka in tow, he carefully and quietly made his way towards the camp, hoping to discover what was going on. It was then when Ekur saw him. Sitting next to the fire was a young warrior. In many ways they were nothing alike, this boy was scrawny and weak, barely an adult. There was something about him that struck Ekur though, something he couldn’t quite put a finger on. Perhaps it was the fire in his eyes, the determination. Whatever the reason, Ekur decided to change course then and there. Whether it was happy serendipity or fate is impossible to know, but it did turn out to be a fortuitous decision. Rather than turn on him and kill him as many plainsfolk might, they invited him to spend the night with him. He spoke, vaguely of his past and childhood careful to gloss over certain issues that might prove troublesome. The raid group saw his strength, and his charisma, and guessed at his power, and saw he might be useful to the Sept. So, they invited him to return with them, and he did. So it was that Ekur found his new home. Of course, the Sept was not immediately welcoming to him, they might not have killed him on sight, but they were still distrustful of the dead. Still, Ekur attempted to blend in, and his prowess in battle and his natural charisma supplemented by his Majesty helped win him if not love then at least tolerance. On the surface everything appeared normal, Ekur became a warleader of some renown, and took up mentoring Agga, the young man who had first caught his attention. He was helping Agga become stronger, teaching him the ways of war both of his homeland and of Akkad. Ekur was fitting in, having put the past behind him. However, not all was as it seemed. For though he had returned to his roots, Ekur had not forgotten his time in the city, not forgotten living as a god, and despite his attempts to put aside such things he longed for it still. It was a little thing at first, finding excuses to be alone with Ilku, so his priest might offer him prayers and worship, but it grew. Eventually, he began ever so quietly, ever so secretly to build a cult amongst the tribe. To find those among the sept who are malleable, who need someone or something in their life and to twist them around using his many gifts and powers. With each year the cult grew in size and zeal, and its lord grew bolder and more determined to remake the life that ought to be his. In a particularly bold stroke, they began to lobby and agitate to have Ekur join the council of elders. Careful never to reveal their true allegiance, they argued he was one of the tribe’s best warriors, and his knowledge of Akkad would serve the tribe well against the City. In truth, Ekur had never sought to join the counsel, his followers took it up of their own initiative to glorify their god, but once he was offered a place on it he would accept. He wanted to make the tribe strong, a rival to the blood-empire between the rivers and the City, a force to make the world quake, and if in the process he could establish himself openly as a god, an object of worship and awe, served by thousands of fanatical followers, all the better. Aspirations:
Ilku  Onetime rival and now servant and ghoul of Ekur, Ilku grew up in the same tribe as Ekur. They never quite got along, always striving for the same things, always getting in each other’s way. Their enmity spurred both onto greater heights, and perhaps they might have one day become friends, but for the fateful night of the raid. Ekur became an undead god, and Ilku was reduced to serfdom, the plans of Ekur’s sire saw to it that he was made to suffer, not provided enough food or water, generally made miserable. That all changed after Ekur’s and Ilku’s paths crossed once more, but that time forever altered and set their relationship between them. Ekur broke Ilku, shattered him, and put him together again as his adoring servant. Ilku’s absolute and unquestioning devotion to his god has been the core of his personality ever since. Serving as Ekur’s priest saw the vampire take steps to return his servant to strength and health, with Ilku putting back on all the muscle he had lost, serving as the right hand of one of the Lords of the Night, his enforcer. He learned from his master how to twist the hearts of men, but where Ekur relies on sweet words, the power of the Kiss and the Blood, and the radiance of his Majesty, Ilku is more brutal and direct. He burns god’s will into men, keeping them obedient and in line, the bad cop to Ekur’s good cop. Among the Sept it has been necessary to adopt something of a disguise. He hides his true nature, the adoring and faithful servant, and pretends to be merely Ekur’s good friend and ally. In this guise he is always pushing, always striving to be the strongest, the best. In some ways this is not a guise, for he has always striven towards ever higher goals, he simply disguises the reason for his striving, replacing the drive to serve his god better with the relish of competition for its own sake. Regardless, it is widely known that Ilku is Ekur’s right hand man, and that during the day he speaks for Ekur. Agga Touchstone The young warrior of the Sept, Agga has never been strong or particularly skilled, but he is above all things determined. Growing up he was cursed with constant bouts of sickness that left him weak and frail. As he became an adult these became rarer, but they left him at a deficit to his fellows. While they had been out hunting, learning to fight, forming their bodies he had been stuck in the camp. This left him with a burning desire to make up his lost time, to make the most of his life. That determination, that fire is what drew Ekur’s attention. Since coming to the camp Ekur has attempted to act as Agga’s mentor, attempting to help the young man close the gap between himself and his peers. This is a new feeling for Ekur, who had been rival, warrior, god, but never a mentor, never truly interested in seeing someone else grow. It is strange for him, as he balances his desire to see Agga advance with his own machinations and desires for a return to godhood. For the moment, he has managed to keep these two things separate, but for how long that can remain? Valhawk fucked around with this message at 23:59 on Feb 6, 2016 |
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Jan 27, 2016 05:41
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Jehuel, a Word  There was a time when Jehuel was an angel of the God-Machine, living calligraphy, the divine language made manifest in a body, singing instruction to the humans of the City in perfect harmony with the music of the spheres- the gnosis of the Machine to which they had just as much access as they could conceive of wanting. And it was good. And then they were ordered to destroy the City, the humans, and themselves (in that order) without warning or explanation. All their work, undone with atomic fire and a blast of the trumpet. All their knowledge, erased. All the potential of the human race. All their knowledge. In the quiet moments between ticks of their mechanical mind, Jehuel still believes they would have remained loyal if only they had received a satisfactory answer: "Why?" God was not amused by the question. And so the Word, disconnected from the ever-present gnosis of the Machine and cast down into physical form in a world that could not read, turned to the First Legion and turned their back on the City. The really maddening part is the newfound lack of knowledge. Knowing that there was a time when the plans of the God-Machine made perfect sense. Knowing just how much context and data you lost in the Fall. Knowing the humans and stranger things in this dark world where you now dwell don't even have the technical vocabulary in their primitive languages to express the things you gave up for their sake. Knowing that your authentic self would only frighten them. Knowing that the divine text of your true body is becoming corrupted, illegible, mad infernal scribblings that would make no sense even if any mortal could read them, and asking whether that means the looking glass through which you understand the world without God has become similarly stained and dark, and --- Three Heron Laughing Moon, a Soothsayer  Jehuel's original Cover has long since been burned in battle. This one is a soul pact, originally an escaped Akkadian slave of little consequence, whose life story has grown in the telling through pacts with interesting and desperate people. Three Heron Laughing Moon is a rather ethereal young man who claims to be wolf-blooded, and lost kin to the sept. Some midwives and herbalists and one of the elders have vague memories of his father, and his claimed lineage checks out if the investigator doesn't pull the thread too hard. He was separated from his family as an adolescent, kept as a blood doll in the lands of Akkad for a time, and finally encountered a Lune who led him to freedom, taught him magical powers, and gave him the deed name of Three Heron Laughing Moon- usually he sticks to "Moon"- before pointing him toward the sept and sending him on his merry way to rejoin his kin. His supposedly spirit-granted magic has earned him a position of influence in the sept, along with his beauty, his gift with words, and his uncanny ability to know things that no one has told him. People seek his advice on matters practical, esoteric, spiritual and (especially to other queers) romantic. He dispenses sage insights, and in return he learns what is happening. A handful of his most devoted followers are inducted into his inner circle, where they glimpse the true body of Jehuel, an angel of the Goddess Luna sent to bring about a great destiny for the sept. It's a stable position. The sept is a good base of operations, and perhaps a thing that can be molded into a weapon against the City. The wolves and their kin are mobile and untamed, with no permanent home to be scoured by the angels. The truce with the Pure Tribes is a promising development that needs to be further encouraged- imagine the Predator Kings digging their claws into a squadron of Destroyers! Jehuel will win the praise of the First Legion when they lead a battle-hardened wolf pack on a crusade against the City ordained by Luna Herself! And yet- Three Heron Laughing Moon is beginning to have dreams of his own. There is a mortal whom he has grown close to. He means more in his mind than a source of information or potential cannon fodder. He is simply...there, unspoken, his most careless words replaying again and again in Jehuel's mind, pored over for information. This doesn't feel like an act. But it must be, demons do not feel in that way, not truly. Maybe it's just a subconscious signal to investigate the possibility of creating a wolf-blooded Nephilim. Further study is warranted. Kellsterik fucked around with this message at 13:57 on Feb 5, 2016 |
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Jan 30, 2016 07:21
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baleeted so it don't take up space
Kellsterik fucked around with this message at 13:30 on Feb 5, 2016 |
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Jan 31, 2016 08:54
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Going to call this on Friday.
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Feb 1, 2016 00:47
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Chayyim, the Slayer There is drama in the fall, or so Chayyim is told. It would not know. It was made to kill, and in doing so, placate. "If a monster were to rise," people of The City would say, "Certainly some hero will bring it low." And so it was. Chayyim did not slay every monster, of course. Some monsters were necessary to help encourage people to seek The City's safety. Chayyim spent most of its time bearing the faces of heroes, usually only unsheathing itself before its prospective targets. Even before the beasts of the wild or the grave, it could often walk amongst them, covered in their raiments of blood and magic. But it was more than a matter of wrestling monsters to the earth, but more a duty to etch lines of story and tale into communities. One day, perhaps, there would have been no need to call upon the Swords. Instead, people might say, "If a monster were to rise, certainly I will bring it low." And certainly that might have happened, if God had ever been willing to put down its Swords. Instead, God turned the Swords on The City. Chayyim did not realize it was falling, or at least not at first. It was amongst the wolves when the Earth shook, seeking to witness one of their hunts first-hand. It had many notions like this, to seek out knowledge of beasts should it prove useful, even though it had not been directed to. For it had been made to carve tales into the land, but the tales began to shape it as well. Its function allowed it to draw upon those who told its tale, but those who spoke of it attributed things like courage or righteousness, and so it slowly became infected by those notions. But the strangest thing is that even monsters had their stories of heroism, particularly the wolves, and those could infect it, too, and poison its purpose. And so when it felt the reverberations of The Fall, it would travel back to The City. It was horrified by what it saw. Angels were hollowed out, just echoes of their former selves. Walls of demons, bound into Infrastructure. It knew monsters, and there was no more apt word for how it redefined God in those moments. If it had not fallen before that point, it did now. Fleeing before it could be noticed, it wrapped itself in its Cover so tightly that it barely remembered its past for a time. Shamira, the Ghost Wolf  She did not know the fate of the First Legion, but instead returned to her travels. She had already been used to keeping a low profile, and it knew that the God- no, the Machine would hollow her out if given the chance. Sometimes, when it felt something had earned death, she killed it in the old fashion, but it was only upon returning to the nomadic wolves that she felt safe. They did not remember her, of course, but she knew them well enough. She had slain a few of them in the past. It was not something that particularly troubled her, though she knew it troubled them, and so she kept a low profile. While it would be a stretch to say she feels sorry, she does find that she wishes there was a way to comfort the creatures for their loss. But she realizes that would be too risky right now, and so she runs as a wolf, trying to balance the risk to her Cover with the knowledge that being surrounded by beasts is a discouragement to Angel investigation. However, the hints of others like her - demons - has begun to shake her from her fugue, and she seeks to try and find out more about them. Or, at least, find them out before they find her out... Alien Rope Burn fucked around with this message at 02:55 on Feb 15, 2016 |
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Feb 1, 2016 03:24
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We are now closed. I will announce picks...uh, probably tomorrow. This is gonna be hard.
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Feb 6, 2016 05:13
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gently caress it. I like all of you and I think I can handle 8 people. You're all in. Now, I need you all to name one semi-supernatural member of the tribe and tell me a little about them. They are either a wolf-blood or, optionally, if you play a vampire you can have them be a ghoul and if you play a demon you have them be a stigmatic. In either case, you can choose to stat them or leave them to me to stat. They may, universally, take a maximum of one dot of Totem. Currently, Totem is sitting at 9 dots. E: Also, share ideas on how you feel about each other and what the sept's name and totem are like.
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Feb 6, 2016 18:13
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Amah - Probably Wolfblooded One of the benefits of spending such lengthy periods of time with a single tribe is the ability to perform longitudinal studies. For obvious reasons, Eulli is interested in the tribe's bloodlines, and has taken a look into how wolf blood is passed down from generation to generation. He's got an extensive map of tribe's family tree (a benefit of vampirism is that a taste of blood can generally verify paternity, so his version is probably more accurate than the tribe's oral history), and he thinks he's almost cracked the code. Amah is a young woman whose grandfather was wolf-blooded, as was her maternal uncle. According to Eulli's complicated star charts, occult formulas, and genealogical information, she is almost certainly wolf-blooded, though she has yet to manifest a Tell. Thus, until she does, she is unfortunately subject to some uncomfortable scrutiny from Eulli. Amah is a scout, a fairly skilled one, Eulli is told. She's loyal and faithful, though two of her close family members seem to be falling in with Ekur's cult. Please do the statting for this one, Mors - I don't want to know if she's actually wolf-blooded or not. Though if she is, a dot of Totem wouldn't go amiss. Opinions Hazi the Kinslayer - "He was such a happy child. It is almost a shame what his duty has forged him into, but this is a harsh world." Izila, Shadow on the Sands - "She wields fear as a weapon - I know that one well. But her father makes my fangs itch." Nikanuur, the Merchant - "Those who have had dealings with the City are not to be trusted. Useful, perhaps, but never trusted." Kian, The Spirit Speaker - "He has grown into someone I can truly respect. I can converse with him as an equal on many topics, which is a rare gift." Ekur - "An unfortunate taste of home. He worries me - the Lords of the Night do not give up on divinity so easily. Yet, there is nothing I can say against him to the Council that would not apply equally well to me." Three Heron Laughing Moon - "I hope to talk with him about his parentage, as my records for his branch are somewhat sketchy, but he avoids me. Though that's not uncommon among the Sept." Chayyim, the Slayer - "Something new. Can't say I know much about her, though I wouldn't mind finding out." Let me know if I've mischaracterized anyone - I can revise these pretty easily. Green Bean fucked around with this message at 19:44 on Feb 6, 2016 |
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Feb 6, 2016 19:40
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 Sura-Shul, the False Wolf All his life, Sura-Shul commanded respect from his Sept. He was the very image of a protector; unyielding, strong of arm and voice, and helpful to those less fortunate. He was a wolf in all but name. Despite his image, and his sharp teeth, there was something still lacking in his blood. Some of the council could swear that they would see Winter Wolf's enduring spirit in his eyes, in the way he carried himself; though he never had any of the Uratha's true qualities. Yet, they said, with as much as he looked like one of them, his Change couldn't be too far off. Decades later, and still the Change has not come. He has borne two sons and a daughter, and much to his envy, it was that final spawn, Izila, who Changed before his very eyes, and eventually ascended to the position of council member. The Shadow on the Sands, she calls herself. Shadow of His Blood, Sura-Shul calls her. She makes for a good leader, but the False Wolf sees only a name to use for his own purposes. Through her, people listen to him; yet when she returns from her strange trips into the desert, she tears down his authority with ruthless words. Age has made Sura-Shul bitter, though he will not give up. Sooner or later, he will rule this sept. One way or another. Aspiration: Rule the sept as one of the council.[Long Term] -------- Izila's impressions Hazi - Hrn. Kinslayer, they call him. Sometimes I sympathize with his burden. But only sometimes. Nikanuur - Numbers is the only game he understands, though he plays it masterfully. A necessary part of the tribe; though I doubt his allegiance sometimes. The City rarely lets their own go so unsupervised. Eulli - I feel some kinship with the strange one, odd as it may be to contemplate. Both of us know the true danger of the spirits, and watch for them on our own terms. Kian - A wise man, and somewhat of a mentor to me. Somebody my father ought to strive to be more like. Ekur - More like my father than I would like, though better in ways Sura-Shul will never understand. Still, he is of Akkad - when the day comes he is presented the opportunity to return, what then? Moon - The lost son returned. The Lune brought him back to us, and now he brings us wisdom. He has his place, and that is all I have to say. Shamira - Despite being Uratha, she is peculiar. I suppose it is her lack of tribe. But I keep my eyes on her all the same. Wahad fucked around with this message at 22:41 on Feb 6, 2016 |
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Feb 6, 2016 20:03
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Dungi, the enraged former warleader A warrior of some skill and renown, Dungi was once a warleader of the tribe. Wolfblooded and fierce in battle, it was only natural he’d be appointed to a position of respect. However, in truth he was a better soldier than commander and his tenure was not well loved, however he knew how to use just enough violence and threats to keep his warriors in line. Of course that all changed when Ekur joined the village. The vampire might be an outsider, and not of the wolf, but his raids were more successful with fewer casualties. He was concerned with strengthening and training his men, and on top of that he positively shone, warrior came away from meeting him smiling, moved. Thus it was only natural that soon Dungi’s warriors left to join Ekur’s band, and later secretly took up the worship of their new leader. Dungi was infuriated, he had always spoken against the outsiders, even Eulli, the ancient healer. The tribe was of the wolf, and needed no others he would rank. Now however, all his hatred was focused on one man, Ekur. He is now Ekur’s fiercest critic, speaking against the vampire at every opportunity, and looking as hard as he can to discredit the vampire. So far he has no idea of the existence of Ekur’s cult, but he is close and there have been more than a few near misses in the past. So far Ekur has avoided taking any action, but with each passing year he grows more and more tired of Dungi’s campaign. As Ekur more and more returned to his godhood his feelings have started to change. It will not be enough to simply have Dungi quietly discredited or silenced. No, what Ekur now desires is to break him, to transform his fiercest critic into his most ardent and zealous worshiper. The idea tugs at his mind whenever he encounters the wolf-blooded, and it’s only a matter of time until he acts. I'm not terribly familiar with stating werewolves or wolf-blooded so I'll leave that to you Mors. --- Ekur's Impressions Hazi the Kinslayer - Another of the Tribe’s warleaders. He is feared more than loved, but everyone knows he puts the tribe above all. Whether he is an ally or enemy, it is too early to tell, but I shall have to keep a close eye on him and keep him away from my activities. Perhaps he can be swayed with offers of a different path than the endless trail of bloodshed he now walks. Only time will tell. Izila, Shadow on the Sands - She is subtle and austere, moving in the shadows to cut threats down without being seen or known. She doesn’t know it, but she would have made a formidable kindred, she would flourish in Akkad an entire land of subtlety and shadows. Her father is a different story, he is a threat that must be muzzled or removed, for he sees me as one he can displace to join the council. If he tries, he will find the price for crossing god to be high. Nikanuur, the Greedy Merchant - Here is a man who could be an ally, in many ways he wants what I want, to make the tribe great and powerful, powerful enough to rival Akkad or even the City. However, if there was one lesson my sire drove into my head over and over again until it stuck was that nothing from the City is ever what it appears to be. Let us hope that this merchant can be an ally, for I have no time for enemies. Eulli, the Scholar - I have seen how he looks at me, he is a relic of another time, and like so many relics I have met he looks down on those younger kindred, thinks we are less worthy. He hides it behind his scholarly demeanor, but I know the truth. He is the most dangerous of any on the council, for he is of Akkad, he knows its ways. If there is any who might ferret out what I am building it will be him. However, I can not just remove him, having another of my kind on the council is too useful to lose, and his knowledge of the healing arts have saved more than one of the tribe’s warriors, even some who follow me. I owe him a debt for that, which I will repay, but I will not allow him to threaten what I build. Kian, the Spirit Seeker - Of all the wolves, he is the one who would no doubt be most angered by what I do in the dead of night. He speaks with spirits and specters and the tribe respects him greatly, I must tread carefully. Three Heron Laughing Moon - Another dangerous one, of wolf and night like I am though so very different. He was a servant in Akkad, no servant of mine or my master of course, but I could tell even if he did not tell everyone and anyone. I sometimes wonder if there is more to his story than he says, for I see mirrors of what I do in his actions. It takes a thief to catch a thief and one man assembling a secret cult can see what looks like signs in others. I do not know if this makes us allies, enemies, or merely rivals, but I will have to find out. Shamira, the Ghost Wolf - She is new, newer than me which is rare. I do not know who she is or what she wants, but I know she is investigating something, a past time which might be dangerous for me. I will watch, and if it proves necessary I will act. I can not say much else without knowing more. Pssstt... Wahad you got my guy's name wrong. Valhawk fucked around with this message at 22:37 on Feb 6, 2016 |
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Feb 6, 2016 22:25
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Hakon Blue-Eyes, Wolfblooded Priest Hakon is the most senior of Kian's assistants, and probably the closest thing the venerable shaman has to a true friend. Hakon's piercing, bright blue eyes see right through the veil between the Shadow realm and the Mortal one ((Tell: Piercing Eyes)) and rumours abound that Kian is grooming the young wolfblood to act as his successor (though no one knows why Kian seems to fear he will no longer be able to perform his duties). Hakon appears to be in his mid-twenties, standing a hand above most of the mortal men of the Sept (though smaller than nearly all the full-blood wolves) - his unique eyes are hidden behind a long fringe of jet black hair, and he sometimes wears a blindfold made of thick cotton around camp, though he will not or cannot say why. Rumours state that the spirits that he sees foretell death and ruin for the tribe, and tell of a great ruination, though Kian has not mentioned anything of this sort to the council. Certainly, it seems Kian's slow and patient nature is keeping his pupil's wolfblood nature in check, but members of the Sept fear what damage a wolfblood with responsibility over calling the hunt could do... Definitely a point in totem, the rest I leave up to you Mors - feel free to use this guy to dump dots in things you think we might need but haven't taken. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Kian's Impressions Hazi the Kinslayer - I would pity the man who strikes down his kin, as his own judgement burdens him more than the tribe's judgement ever could. I feel he is hiding his true self from the rest of us, and I shudder to hear the harsh, angry whispers of the spirit world he leaves in his wake... Izila, Shadow on the Sands - She feels she is alone, that leadership is a burden that she alone must carry. The actions of her father weigh heavy on her mind, and she mistrusts others because of this - I hope I can ease her burdens, and help her lead our peoples through these trying times. Nikanuur, the Greedy Merchant - He comes from the city, preaching strange ways and alien values to us. I am not scared of change, but the City is a blight upon the spirit world, and the rumours from the spirit world suggest this "merchant" is more than he appears. Still, his tools are useful enough to tolerate his radical words, for now... Eulli, the Scholar - He has a powerful desire to learn, and is fast becoming a close confidant. I value our talks over tea and a roaring fire, and his insight has proven valuable on more than one occasion. I hope he will remain here for many moons to come, though I can sense his desire to return to his homeland niggles away at him in his private moments. Three Heron Laughing Moon - He is powerful, supposedly with the spirits, though around him the spirits themselves go hushed and cowed. He claims to be blood of the moon, yet she does not claim him as her own. Still, he has come from Akkad freed from chains, and he definitely needed our aid - though over time he has more than repaid that debt. I must talk to Eulli about the conditions that wolfblooded are kept in in Akkad, maybe therein lies some answers to this strange enigma... Ekur - The council member I trust the least, you do not need to hear the whispers to know he is gathering supporters and power to himself! Still, to what aim is hard to say - perhaps he never lost the mortal lust for power, or perhaps the nature of Akkad never left his immortal blood. All I know is that he has built a bedrock of support in the tribe through word and deed, but if he acts against the best interests of our people I will see him destroyed. Shamira, the Ghost Wolf - She runs with the pack, though she is not part of it - she seems eager to atone for some past sin but at the same time she seems eager to distance herself from her heritage. She is a woman of contradictions, though I know from the spirits whatever life she has left behind was drowned in blood and tears, I just pray that her past does not come back to haunt all of us. ForeverBWFC fucked around with this message at 23:57 on Feb 6, 2016 |
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Feb 6, 2016 23:47
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Jehuel's impressions Hazi - This is what primitive societies do to their people. All the limitless potential of mortal clay, baked into a weapon because your tribe needs killers more than dancers. But you don't have to be what they made you. I want to help you marry, I've played matchmaker before. I want these people to respect and honor a kinslayer. We will show them the emptiness of their taboos. Izila - I fear you because you do not care for words, and all I am is words. But your father's jealousy and ambition could be useful to me as a pactmaker, if I can find a way to take advantage of it without crossing you in daylight- or rather, at night. Serafiel - I am with you, blood of my blood, as I was with you in the City. But settlement would be a huge mistake. Let me put this in terms you appreciate: the value of this resource is in its liquidity, its mobility. The wolves are strong because they are nomads. We lose when we make them more like It. Eulli - Further evidence of the Adversary's power to influence probability: the sept I Pact my way into just happens to host an immortal genealogist with a perfect memory. Your love of pure knowledge is as beautiful to me as your flesh is ugly, but I really need you to direct that attention somewhere else. I don't think you know yet, but you're close. And stop asking when I'm going to have kids! Kian - My competition in the sage advice business. You are like Eulli, I see why you two are close. I respect your knowledge of the Hisil, but I can't let you get too close. I've never even seen a Lune. Is there a way I can Ekur - Something else is going on at night. I'm starting to suspect that my little cult of Luna isn't the only game in town. And I think I know who's behind it. I see you, vampire, I recognize you, because you're not the only beautiful incubus with your eyes on the local boys. I'm gonna be Queen Bitch of this wolfpack, not you. I have tricks of my own if you start using the Blood on the local council. I'm ready to escalate. I just need to know exactly what in the hell you're planning next. Chayyim - I know. I am a finely tuned instrument, I can hear your hidden heartbeat. I don't know whether you know me or Serafiel back, I haven't tried the secret handshake yet. It's an ingenious disguise, I really do respect your tradecraft. But it's time to wake up and come in from the cold. If you keep making it look so easy, you'll make Moon want to come out there with you.
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Feb 7, 2016 02:42
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You're gloriously insane, Mors. This is gonna be great. Our totem seems like it would be, above all else, practical, if it's willing to accept this bunch. Are there any animals known for being practical? Hazi's mpressions: Izila, Shadow on the Sands – "A remarkable woman! Perhaps something of a kindred spirit even, the way she has sacrificed her own will to the tribe. Her strength is a credit to the pack. "The tension I can sometimes sense with her father worries me, however. I pray I am never called upon to kill her, not just because I admire and respect her, but because I'm not sure I'd survive. The wolves who strike from the shadows are the most dangerous of all." Nikanuur, the Merchant – "His nature is even harder to understand than his words, but I cannot argue with his results. The tribe needs good weapons, and he is skilled at providing them. I do worry about the danger of weakness from his ways, but I see the wisdom, too. If settling will make us stronger in the end, then I support it. And if it doesn't, he is simply a mortal man. My jaws can find his throat easily." Eulli, the Scholar - "This man gives me pause. I should fear him, and yet he has been a part of the tribe longer than I have been alive. I enjoy talking to him, despite the fact that I usually leave our conversations confused. "His monstrous nature gives him greater strength than his appearance would suggest, but he is not a fighter at heart. Should the totem ever revoke its acceptance, I will be ready." Kian, The Spirit Speaker – "Truly a great man. His wisdom and dedication are owed the highest respect. My only wish is that he would come to others who understand his struggle instead of walking the path alone. Unless I ever have to slay him. Then I can use that to my advantage." Ekur – "A fearsome man, indeed. He has great support in the sept, and as long as he continues to use that support to benefit us, I approve. If he ever betrays the tribe, I dearly hope they don't expect me to handle him alone. He is mightier than many Uratha." Three Heron Laughing Moon – "Moon is strange, but I like him. He has much wisdom for his age, and he is not one of those wolf-blooded who makes a play of appearing strong. Part of me is worried, though. He reminds me of other young people I have had to kill for gaining too much influence and using it suspiciously. Hopefully Moon won't go down that path." Shamira, the Ghost Wolf - "Being a ghost wolf is a sad fate, even more so if one has no pack either. I'm glad she found us. Now I can learn her weaknesses, whether I truly want to or not." My woofblood: Old Man Minesh: “He who questions training, only trains himself at asking questions.” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b5I94bT23cQ An elderly and mischievous wolf-blood, he exacts his “revenge” for never undergoing the Change by playing pranks on members of the sept and giving advice of dubious merit. He would never do anything truly harmful, but he enjoys sowing a little confusion every now and then. Some call it the touch of a Lune, which his shining eyes have been able to see ever since he was a child. Intelligence: oooo Wits: oo Resolve: oo Strength: oo Dexterity: oo Stamina: oo Presence: oo Manipulation oo Composure: oo Occult ooo Medicine ooo Academics oo Crafts oo Athletics o Survival o Larceny o Expression o Socialize o Merits: Totem o Status o Fame o Sympathetic oo Aspirations: Give a more supernaturally powerful being odd counsel (short term) Become a werewolf (it could happen) (long term) Speed: 9 Defense: 3 Willpower: 4 Health: 7 Initiative: 4 Tell: PIERCING EYES The characters eyes, literally, pierce the Twilight. She has unusually colored, uncommonly vibrant eyes that catch the light in the way a wolf’s might at night. They are difficult to conceal, and the shine happens even if she’s wearing contact lenses. She can see things that normal people think aren’t there, and can’t stop seeing them. Boon: Her eyes see through to the other side. She can perceive all manner of Twilight creatures. Ghosts, spirits, and angels are as clearly visible to her as other human beings are to everyone else. She cannot deactivate this ability.
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Feb 7, 2016 04:42
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~_~ Impressions ~*~ Hazi the Kinslayer - A man after my own heart! The age of beasts is ending. Hunting and gathering falls to the wayside as agriculture and civilization arises. He knows who this tribe's real enemies are, or at least who they will be. Best to know how to kill them. And, my friend, I understand your paraonia better then probably any other here might. Try to enjoy life in spite of it, eh? I must make an increased effort to befriend his one; I could always use the muscle, and maybe I could teach them to relax a little. Izila, Shadow on the Sands - Dangerous. Needs little to nothing that I can offer, and I dislike having nothing on a person. Especially when they don't entirely trust me. That goes triple for murderers and assassins. Her father clearly despises her in his idiotic envy; how numerous are those with a lust for rulership and none of the qualities a ruler should have! Power without wisdom makes you another, lesser God-Machine. I will watch HIM carefully - I believe that may be the key to earning her trust. Eulli, the Scholar - You don't scare me. And you don't trust me. But you're useful, you think I am useful, and you've an easy coin to trade in. Want knowledge, do you? I bet I know something you don't. I bet I could find far, far more. See, you may not trust me, but I trust you; you have a past, a history. All those little things that tell me what sort of monster you actually are - and I don't think you're the monster you present yourself as. You may be from Akkad, but you are not of Akkad, not in the same way. Besides, a tradesman doesn't need your trust - they just need to make a deal. And I think we can work something out. Kian, the Spirit Speaker - We have little in common, but every medicine man needs his medicines. Can't pick them all out in the fields, can you? At the very least we are in agreement that the City is not a passive threat, but an active one - if only you would see that I do not wish to recreate it! For that matter, for such a leader of the tribe, you trust them far too little compared to your spirits. The future of this world lies in the hands of mortal men and women. Help me help them build it! Ekur - I do not trust YOU, beast. Yes, beast; you think I've never heard stories of Akkad? I worked for a god - was made by one - and you are no god, as the people of your cities will soon learn. Even the rooster struts about the fields as if it owns them. You serve the tribe for now, with all your pretty words and gifts, but if I suspect for a second that you seek to make us your slaves, you will learn what TRUE majesty is. For now, I am content to keep you as an ally of convenience. But when our city is made, you'd best know your place. My city has no room for thrones. Jehuel - We know our siblings, and you sibling, stand out like a hammer-stricken thumb. A messenger, weren't you? You certainly talk like one. I don't recognize your cover, and I helped put together many, many covers, so let's assume you know the basics of what I do. How, then, do you know understand it? Only one individual will answer your cries of "why," and it is YOU. You've seen a taste of how to turn the souls of others to your benefit - now learn to enjoy it! And cease this cult nonsense, the last thing we need to do is draw attention to ourselves! Maybe it's just a First Legion thing, I dunno. Chayyim, the Slayer - I love destroyers. They're useful. You never know how many things need to be destroyed until you really think about it. But this one, this one is so very...passionate, about it. Perhaps too much so. They are driven to be known and heard of, which is madness. Do you wish to assault the City single handedly? That is what will happen if you continue to make yourself known! And worse, I will be dragged along! More First Legion nonsense - I grew increasingly happy to be of after their time!
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Feb 7, 2016 15:40
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Herut, the Outcast Eye The City is not the only place to face God's wrath. When Herut's village started to trade with the City, those who accepted goods began to grow in wealth and power. Though it was a matter of decades, those who were associated with the old gods and their Magi were chastised, and finally, cast out into the desert. Being amongst the exiled, Herut tried to turn back, only to burn under God's wrath. Since then, she has known God's displeasure in the burning of her skin. There is no sense or reason to it, but she burns. It is really only a testament to her will that she has not ended it all after that and the death of many of her kin, but instead takes heart in that she survived the anger of a god - and survives still. As a independent guard and hunter, finding the sept was like finding kindred spirits. Though she shares no blood with the wolves, she has been trusted as a local guard and protector, able to see dangers the wolves cannot. She still practices the ways of Ma˛dakku, hoping one day her god will find her, but knowing without a priest to work though, she is likely lost. Still, habit and ritual help her get through each day, knowing each day she lives, she defeats the City's God once again. Chayyim's Impressions Ekur - Ambition. Good. We need ambition. We will not need it forever, though, and I will not let The Night fall here. Best to keep an eye on him. Eulli, the Scholar - So much thought to words without an ending. I don't understand knowledge without practice, but still, we should trade stories. Maybe someday I'll be able to share some true ones, too. Hazi the Kinslayer - He seems kind, gentle, brave. Like all betrayers do. But I don't begrudge him for that. I have siblings I must kill, too. Too many. Maybe he can help me understand how to live with it. Izila, daughter of Sura-Shul - Having spent too much time in the shadow, she seeks the sun. Can she be more than she seems? Given the choice, I would rather find out. Jehuel, a Word - A former slave? Echoes of the familiar, and yet... humility and cunning are not exclusive. His spirit-borne dreams are worth looking into, worth understanding. Worth judging. Kian, The Spirit Speaker - Master of the Hunt. I will be working with him, then. I must see more of how the Wolves hunt, to understand my prey and theirs. When we are done hunting in the wild and shadow, I can show them how to hunt in The City. Serafiel, the Wheel - A merchant, but here? The City has the goods; The Night has the wealth, what do The Wolves have? More needs than gifts. There is more to him, but... is he here to build a tower against or for the Machine? Is there a difference? Alien Rope Burn fucked around with this message at 02:09 on Feb 15, 2016 |
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Feb 8, 2016 03:58
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So yes, we still need a Totem and a name for the sept. Any ideas?
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Feb 8, 2016 23:20
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I leave those decisions to the members who have said totem, and to the leaders of the sept.
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Feb 8, 2016 23:24
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So to move things forward, do we want a spirit of a concept or an animal?
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Feb 8, 2016 23:33
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I dunno, maybe some kind of crow or vulture? Scavengers can be more practical about what they pick up, right? A more conceptual spirit would be fine too, though this is early days in the whole "human history" thing, so probably not something too complex. Edit: Maybe a spider? Those have a lot of fun mythological and conceptual themes to work with. And hey, affinity with us fanged folks. Green Bean fucked around with this message at 23:54 on Feb 8, 2016 |
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Feb 8, 2016 23:51
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How about a lion, or strength, or both? I mean tribe-wise, our guys are all fairly powerful and prideful. Plus, several of us are planning to take over the world, so that might fit in with the group concept.
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Feb 9, 2016 00:03
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Valhawk posted:How about a lion, or strength, or both? I mean tribe-wise, our guys are all fairly powerful and prideful. Plus, several of us are planning to take over the world, so that might fit in with the group concept. I quite like the idea of a coyote, though I can't reason exactly why...
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Feb 9, 2016 01:05
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...I mean, the obvious and easy answer is a wolf if nobody else will offer it.
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Feb 9, 2016 01:14
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Let's compromise and do a lion with eight eyes, or a spider with a mane or something. Green Bean posted:I dunno, maybe some kind of crow or vulture? Scavengers can be more practical about what they pick up, right? A more conceptual spirit would be fine too, though this is early days in the whole "human history" thing, so probably not something too complex. Valhawk posted:How about a lion, or strength, or both? I mean tribe-wise, our guys are all fairly powerful and prideful. Plus, several of us are planning to take over the world, so that might fit in with the group concept.
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Feb 9, 2016 01:24
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