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Sierra The Dark Lord

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Various crap related to characters, posts, and other miscellaneous RP-related content. Nothing in this thread should be considered posted in any capacity nor meant for public viewing.
SPOILER WARNING
May contain spoilerific content related to upcoming RPs, or upcoming posts in ongoing RPs. If you wish to eavesdrop on my WIP content, do so at your own risk.
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Sierra
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Sierra The Dark Lord

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"This is not a story of heroes. This is not a tale of brave men risking life and limb, embarking on a quest to save the world from a coming evil, no. There are no heroes in Avalon anymore. This is a story of the forgotten, of women and men cast aside and left without hope. Wronged, cast out, beaten or belittled, perhaps even scarred or maimed ... this is a story of those the eye does not see, those chosen by powerful forces to do one thing:
TEAR THE WORLD DOWN


"Nobody is a villain in their own story. We're all the heroes of our own stories."
-- George R.R. Martin




Sometimes it's boring being a hero. This is a story about those least likely to save the world. These people have secretly been chosen by the lingering souls of powerful mages to carry on a quest as old as Avalon itself. The Shadow Legion - twelve sorcerers imbued with the magic of the dark gods and a strength unmatched in all of Avalon - sought to unite the world by force, razing and levelling the great cities of the kingdoms they sought to destroy. The wizards and witches and warlocks of Avalon banded together to stop the Legion's onslaught, but to do so cost them the Nexus - the hub of the Aether: source of their own power and the greatest gift to Avalon. Five centuries have past and now the souls of the Legion's sorcerers have chosen their successors. With the power of the Aether stripped from Avalon, there is nothing to stand in their way. This world owes you nothing, and now you carry the power to redefine the world order. You are the Shadow Legion.



The Roleplay

The Expectations:
  • This is an advanced level RP due to the duality of the character you will play. You are essentially playing two characters in one, a task which not everyone will be up to. You are expected to be prepared for this coming in.
  • This is a dark RP. Violence, blood, gore, death and destruction are all common themes. I am not here to encourage holding back. You are expected to be aware of this coming in.
  • The standard rules of roleplay etiquette apply here. Godmodding, powerplaying, or metagaming will not be tolerated. Offenders will answer to the GM and offenses may result in ejection from the RP.
  • A soft content minimum is in place. One/two line responses are disrespectful to the GM and to the other players who are writing vastly more. If such brevity is in fact appropriate, consider writing a collab post with the relevant individuals.
  • Activity and communication are expected. I am rather lenient on delays if you communicate with me. Individuals who vanish with no communication are at risk for ejection from the roleplay following as little as one week.
  • The GM reserves the right to make final decisions as needed. Decisions clearly indicated as final are not open for discussion, contestation, or argument.

The Characters:
The player characters are those chosen by the remnant souls of the Legionnaires of long ago. They carry with them a small trinket, likely of no real value, that secretly harbors one of these souls: their totem. The soul speaks to them - just in subconscious whispers at first but regaining a full persona over time - guiding them towards a new fate. Over time the player characters learn to interact with their mentor souls and harness their power: the power of the wraith. Should their host allow it, the spirits can temporarily inhabit the host's body, lending them all their knowledge and mystical power for a time. While debilitatingly exhausting to the untrained, practice can allow its near-indefinite use.

These souls are not always the most benevolent creatures. After all, these are the spirits of the so-called "greatest evil to walk this world." Characters may not always see eye to eye with their companion, or they may embrace their rage. No two chosen will walk the same path.

There are twelve Legionnaires, which means there are twelve chosen including the GM's character. There are thus eleven places for players. These places will be granted based on order of CS approval. The first character sheets approved get the first slots.

The Plot:
Far-flung and as-of-yet unaware of just what they are chosen to be, the player characters begin finding themselves subtly drawn to a location, compelled by a force they cannot yet understand. Their totems guide them to assemble the Legion Reincarnate. Thus begins the quest to fell the great kingdoms and raise the black flag over all Avalon. The more battles waged, the more practiced and capable the reincarnate Legion becomes, but the more aware their adversaries become of their existence. The party will have to choose between toppling their greatest threats quickly through stealth and deception, or properly mastering their newfound abilities to overpower even their strongest opponents.

In some degrees, the plot for this is on rails. There are various plot elements I have planned for already and there is an ultimate end. However the amount of time between the between the beginning and the end is indeterminate. The roleplay can run for as long as interest exists. I encourage players to develop plot arcs they wish to see played out and discuss these. I will happily weave these in, as my own planning is ultimately finite, hence I will source plot content from players fairly regularly.

The World:
The world of Avalon has been heavily built out at the macro level. Nearly a millennium of history has been developed for it. However, the world is an open playground for micro-level worldbuilding. I have developed the framework sufficiently for this to exist. Players are allowed and encouraged to develop the details of the world as the roleplay progresses. This is a living project to be developed in collaboration with all those who participate. A fairly large (but far from comprehensive) overview of relevant information is included below. Additional info will be appended as people ask questions about things not already covered.

The Character Sheet:
This template is not strict. You are encouraged to change colors and reformat as needed. The provided sheet is primarily a framework to present the relevant information I want and is not binding. For convenience a raw code version has also been provided.



Join-in-Progress:
Players are more than welcome to join after IC posting has begun. In the beginning the players will be subconsciously called to a collective spot. After the beginning, join-in-progress players will instead be led towards the main group, rather than an arbitrary location, in order to link up with the party in a timely manner. Though the party is on the run from every authority imaginable and not exactly the most trusting bunch, I will expect that to be partially handwaved in the name of swift inclusion.



The World of Avalon

The Aether:
In the First Age at the dawn of the great kingdoms, the Gods Above gave a great gift to the world: The Aetherwind. A magical force flowing throughout the world, focused through a single massive crystal pillar reaching towards the Heavens: The Nexus. The aether flows through the world and all living beings. Since the destruction of the Nexus, its power has diminished to a faint trickle. Before every man, woman, and child could sense and wield its energy with minimal power, but now only the greatest sorcerers of ages past can conjure meaningful power from it. The aether used to shimmer in the skies, manifesting in its physical form as an iridescent cyan shimmer, but no longer. Now it is only seen at the hands of those struggling to conjure what little they can.

Growing jealous of the admiration it won them, the dark Gods Below sought to unleash their own force upon the world which would draw the races of man to worship them. The Dark Aether as it was called (the scholars of the First Age were hardly inventive with naming things) was far less gentle than its benevolent counterpart. Its influence is corrupting and its energy is poisonous to those not prepared to resist it's effects. In contrast to its beautiful glowing opposite, the dark aether is black as night, seemingly choking the light out of anything it touches. Its study and practice is strictly forbidden by every authority on Avalon, and is prosecuted extremely harshly since the end of the First Age. Yet it is ever present and since the destruction of the Nexus, a force of unmatched power.

The capabilities of the aether is virtually limitless. Conjuring aetheric energy takes only focus and a little practice. Wielding it as an unstoppable force is a pursuit that takes a lifetime to master. It can take on an elemental aspect at the will of the summoner, though its pure form is often more powerful and precise, if requiring more practice to utilize fully. During the First Age when the Nexus existed, a single wizard could move mountains.

The Pantheons:
The Gods Above in Heaven lead the races of man along the path of righteousness and kindness. Through the Second Age the piety of the people has faded as both Gods and men turned their backs unto one another. The Third Age has arrived as prophesied, and some archpriests claim the Gods Above have spoken, warning them of a coming great darkness. In their arrogance, lords and kings have ignored these warnings, believing the prophecy to be the last taunt of the defeated.

The Gods Below in Hell appeal to the basest desires of men, channelling power through lust and rage. Most who succumb to the temptation of powerlust are torn apart by the power of the dark aether they summon. Those who are not are found, sniffed out by the sorcerers of royal courts and practitioners of a bygone era who can sense the channeling of aether, light and dark alike. No one has since regained the godlike power of the twelve legionnaires ... until now.

The Shadow Legion:
As the races of man flocked to the Gods Above in droves in praise of the gift bestowed upon Avalon, the Gods Below grew jealous of their kin. Thus came the dark aether into Avalon: a blazing wind of malevolent energy that few could harness without being destroyed, but capable of infinite power. There were twelve who felt its strength and sought to harness it. The twelve were the first true followers of the dark ways. These twelve became the Shadow Legion: the most devastating force ever to exist in the world of Avalon.

Summoning the power of the Gods Below they served, they conjured army of horrors they unleashed in their wake, ravaging the lands and razing whole cities. No army in Avalon could contest them on open ground, yet the great strongholds still repelled their siege, marching dark energies with the light. To finally crush those who opposed their conquest they sought to destroy the aetherwinds, rending their enemys’ power from them and paving the way to victory. The Nexus needed to be corrupted, forced to channel the burning powers of dark aether and opening the doorway to the Gods Below to walk this realm.

Following their defeat, the Legionnaires were imprisoned and set to be executed. Before the sentence could be carried out, the twelve forged a hex upon the world, a prophecy of their return sealed with the remnants of their powers: “Bodies may bleed and wither and die. The souls of Shadow shall live on into eternity. Avalon may know victory and peace for five hundred years ... before the return. The souls of Shadow will return from exile to reclaim this world. Their hosts will know power like no other. We will rise ... to tear your world down.”

The Races of Man:
The races of Avalon all share a common genealogy, tracing lineage back through millennia. They all stem from the common man, but being the tribal creatures men are, their growing divergence often led to growing separation, and thus greater divergence with time. Nonetheless, that common ancestry could once unite the entire world when it was most needed. Only time will tell if it can be done again.

Contemporary Human: As Flawed as Ever
Little needs to be said about the hubris of man. They think themselves the rightful conquerors of all they lay eyes on, tolerate not those who appear different no matter the similarities, and thrive on conflict with their fellow man.

Wrelmsmen: Nature is Not the Enemy (elven/drow archetype)
Those living under the shade of the Wrelm Forests, the region from which their name comes, have grown adept at building civilization around the nature they inhabit, rather than leveling and paving it with iron and stone. They were the first to harness the fullest power of the aetherwinds when it flowed freely across Avalon, transforming the forest itself into a mystical place. Their lifestyle in the shade of the trees honed their vision, their agility, and their adeptness for aethercraft.

Most who survived the Legion’s onslaught fled the forests, living in the free cities or rarely within the Imperium. With every generation passing since the First Age, their lineage grows closer to the contemporary man. Some say that Dark Wrelmsmen exist within the forests now (they do). Most do not believe it is possible under the corrupting influences of the Gods Below. It is a matter of academic and theological debate whether or not it is. (It is, though they are rare.)

Northmen: Hardened in Fire (dwarven archetype)
They have grown shorter in centuries of living mostly below ground. Smithing work and heavy labor bred a race of men short and stocky who thrived in the heat of the forges. Though mildly lacking in stature, they are not to be underestimated. Their hardiness and skills are coveted. Despite their isolation, their communities are centers of academics, as the people of the mountains pride themselves on their engineering prowess.

Orcs: That Cannot be of This World
They came from beyond the known world, not sharing the Avalonian human lineage. They are brutal warlike creatures who put the bloodlust of the races of man to the utmost shame. They are savage beasts considered to be subhuman, yet that does nothing to dampen their sheer force. Their hulking stature and massive strength makes them unfathomably dangerous to engage with a blade, and their hides are not pierced by all but the strongest bows. They appear capable of speech, though it is commonly believed they are incapable of being reasoned with. This is not at all true, though their desire to attack and destroy makes carrying on a productive conversation effectively out of the question. (Not playable directly. I might be persuaded to allow a half-breed, but not easily.)

The Great Kingdoms:
The Vahkranite Imperium of Man: Peace Through Power
Some believe that his majesty Artuur Vahkran and his family are not true Vahkran family heirs, that they superseded the true bloodline sometime in the Second Age of Avalon seeking power. Such dissent is crushed under his iron fist. His critics call him a tyrant, but there is no denying that he has forged the largest, wealthiest, most militarily powerful empire ever seen on Avalon. The conversion from the relatively complacent Kingdom of Vahkran took Avalon by surprise early in the Second Age, propelled by lingering fear of the prophecy left by the Shadow Legion and the scars the world still bore from their rampage.

The seat of the empire, the fortress of a city that is Dawnguard, sits at the base of the Draekhor mountain range, home to the famous forges of Braldurheim. Many of the weapons, armor, and crafted goods that come out of Braldurheim pass through Dawnguard’s gates, affording his majesty the pick of the lot. The sheer strength of the Imperium and the ambition of its aristocracy instills fear of conquest across the free cities of the plainslands. Though they coexist peacefully with the other great kingdoms, no one is truly complacent with the Imperium.

Braldurheim: Eternal as the Mountains
The proud people of Braldurheim first carved into the mountains in search of precious gems. What they found instead was metals for an eternity, and boiling rock deep below. Their magma-fired forges run day in and day out, feeding the finest metalworks in all of Avalon. Almost every blade or plate of armor in Avalon today came out of Braldurheim.

When the Legion first laid siege to the Draekhor Mountains, the people did not fight them on open ground where their armies could run free. They retreated to the mines which became a veritable fortress. Today the villages seen built along sheer cliffs and in mountain passes are but a fraction of the underground enclave that is Braldurheim. The legion has passed, but the envy of his majesty Artuur Vahkran still exists. The people of Braldurheim make their peace supplying his insatiable demands for weapons and armor, but keep their impenetrable fortress of stone ready.

The Alliance of Free Cities: To Rise Above
Many of the kingdoms of man were shattered in the wake of the Legion’s march across Avalon. As the world picked up the pieces leftover, many of the displaced peoples settled in villages throughout the plainslands. Among them were those who believed the kingdoms themselves were at fault, allowing discontent to fester and giving rise to the Legionnaires. Villages grew to respected city-states under the idealistic thought they could be a better example to all of Avalon. Yet even in their idealism they are not perfect. The realities of governance and management make such lofty goals unattainable.

The free cities are bastions of multiculturalism not seen in the great kingdoms who often rally under the banner of a racial identity. Though they seek the path of peaceful existence, the rising power of the Imperium and the invading war tribes both threaten their safety. Each free city maintains its own garrison, and many of them have rallied together under a single alliance to come to each other’s aid.

The War Tribes: WAAAAAAAAAGH!
They came in the Second Age from beyond the known world. They seek nothing but war, raiding and pillaging for no apparent purpose than to destroy things. They will fight anything and everything, including other war tribes. The orcish hordes attack without any formal warning, though the distant thundering of drums often signals their approach.

The Bastion of Wrelm: But a Myth
Almost nobody seriously believes it ever could exist. Fewer still suspect it does. The survivors of the Kingdom of Wrelm Forest, living in a rebuilt fortress-city hidden beneath the trees and guarded by powerful dark sorcerers ... a ridiculous idea. If it did exist, it would be more powerful than even the Imperium with the blazing energies of dark aether at its beckon call. It would be the one place that his majesty Artuur Vahkran could never touch, and the one place that may be spared the wrath of the reincarnate Shadow Legion.

The Ages of Avalon:
The First Age, the age of the aetherwind, lasted for two centuries before it came crashing down in a cataclysmic destruction. No one foresaw the coming destruction until the armies of the Shadow Legion - an unending horde of monsters and apparitions summoned from the dark Gods Below themselves - marched on Dawnguard itself to topple the great Kingdom of Vahkran. Only as half the empire burned in their wake was an answer found. The crowns gathered, rallying every wizard, witch, and warlock to do battle at the Nexus, a site the Legion sought to conquer and corrupt for themselves. Even at the very source of their power, this Righteous Army of Avalon could not hold them at bay. As a last resort, their combined efforts channeled aetheric power back through the Nexus, and the resultant surge of energy purged the Legionnaires of their abilities to channel the dark aether, at the cost of shattering the great crystal in the process.

The day was won, but only at a terrible price. Two whole kingdoms lay ruined, their people scattered. The city of Silverwick, capitol of Illya, was a scorched crater. The sister kingdom of Arc'zhaan was also shattered. Neither would recover from the diaspora, being relegated to a distant memory and a footnote in history. The Great Kingdom of Wrelm also suffered greatly at the hands of the Legion's army, though the people of Wrelm Forest fared better than their plainsfolk brethren.

The Second Age: In the wake of the defeat of the Shadow Legion, the world of Avalon did come to know peace as prophesized, but it was not to last. After two centuries of rebuilding the world without the power of the aether, a new threat presented itself. Brutal subhuman beasts from somewhere beyond Avalon arrived on the shores. The orc war tribes razed for sport, crushing any settlement they could and leaving nothing but burned, bludgeoned, dismembered corpses among the flaming wreckage. Some said this was the return of the Legion, a final curse they placed upon the world. Fearing for their lives, many of the remaining treefolk fled the Wrelm Forests to the free cities. They simply could not rebuild their serene bastions in time without their mystical power. Those who stayed were believed to be killed by orcs, but one after another different war tribes went into the forests of Wrelm, but never came out. Legend has it that the inhabitants were practitioners of the dark aether. Most believe such a thing is impossible, as the influence of the Gods Below would corrupt and destroy them.

Most of the kingdoms of man never successfully rebuilt after being scattered by the Legion’s march across Avalon. During this time, their descendants founded and grew great cities in the plainslands, uniting under the Alliance of Free Cities. They too, were forced to raise walls and garrisons to defend against the brutish hordes that ravaged villages without warning. All the while, fueled by paranoia, the Imperium of Man grew. Some say that the allegedly-illegitimate ruling family is certain of the Legion’s prophecy. Most in Avalon have since dismissed it as folly.

The Third Age: Five hundred years have passed since the legion’s defeat. Their souls have wandered all of Avalon floating from trinket to trinket, passing from person to person, all the while waiting and searching for their heirs. The people have dismissed it, yet the prophecy comes true all the same. The Legion has returned to once again rewrite the world order.
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Sierra
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Sierra The Dark Lord

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(A very complicated CS. Probably worth simplifying.)



X X X
C H A R A C T E R N A M E
{{ GENDER || APPROX AGE }}

A P P E A R E N C E
Additional description as necessary. Include race here. Additional pictures should be included here (please place gifs/numerous pictures in a hider).

B I O G R A P H Y
“It doesn’t matter who you were, or where you came from, who believed in you and who didn’t ...” What makes you so special that out of millions of people on Avalon, you were chosen over all others? What makes you the one who will tear the world down?

S K I L L S
X Lorem Ipsum
What could your character do before they inherited their legionnaire’s power?

X Lorem Ipsum
Second item (remove or copy-paste as needed)

W E A P O N S
X Lorem Ipsum
Does your character have any weapons they carry? Images can be linked if available.

O T H E R
X Lorem Ipsum
List any other relevant attributes or items here.




L E G I O N N A I R E N A M E
{{ GENDER }}

T O T E M
What small trinket does the spirit of your Legionnaire inhabit? Pictures are optional (please include in hider) but encouraged.

P E R S O N A L I T Y
Some Legionnaires are more malevolent than others. What does the voice in your head sound like?

S K I L L S
X Lorem Ipsum
What skills and aetheric abilities does your Legionnaire confer unto your character? What forbidden knowledge to they teach? What special abilities have they mastered? Etc.

X Lorem Ipsum
Second item (remove or copy-paste as needed)

O T H E R
X Lorem Ipsum
List any other relevant attributes or items here.
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Sierra The Dark Lord

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A simpler CS more suitable for public consumption.





CHARACTER NAME

{{ GENDER || APPROX AGE }}


APPEARANCE
Additional description as necessary. Include race here. Additional pictures should be included here (please place gifs/numerous pictures in a hider).


BIOGRAPHY
“It doesn’t matter who you were, or where you came from, who believed in you and who didn’t ...” What makes you so special that out of millions of people on Avalon, you were chosen over all others? What makes you the one who will tear the world down?


SKILLS
-- A Relevant Skill
What could your character do before they inherited their legionnaire’s power?

-- Another Relevant Skill
Second item (remove or copy-paste as needed)


WEAPONS
-- Blade of Choice
Does your character have any weapons they carry? Images can be linked if available.


OTHER
-- Bonus Item
List any other relevant attributes or items here.




LEGIONNAIRE NAME

{{ GENDER }}


TOTEM
What small trinket does the spirit of your Legionnaire inhabit? Pictures are optional (please include in hider) but encouraged.


PERSONALITY
Some Legionnaires are more malevolent than others. What does the voice in your head sound like?


SKILLS
-- Some Mystical Ability
What skills and aetheric abilities does your Legionnaire confer unto your character? What forbidden knowledge to they teach? What special abilities have they mastered? Etc.

-- Relevant Arcane Skill
Second item (remove or copy-paste as needed)


OTHER
-- Random Tidbit
List any other relevant attributes or items here.
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X X X
A D R I A N N A C O R V E L L O
{{ FEMALE || 24 }}

A P P E A R E N C E
Short, but not significantly so. Her hair is never kempt and is oft pulled back. Though subtle features would lead one to believe she is a soft, caring person, the burning fire in her eyes betrays a far harsher reality. Her grace is only skin deep. She still dresses as if she lived the once-lavish lifestyle of her past, failing to conceal her wealthy upbringing. She appears outcast both from the world around her and the one behind her. Though not yet fully cognizant of this fact, she wears many pieces of her armor even day to day, always ready for a fight that might come he way.

B I O G R A P H Y
Adrianna is the firstborn daughter of House Corvello, a lordship under the Vahkanite Imperium. A son followed years later and only a year beyond that, twin boys. Her eldest brother is still four years her minor. Despite this, he is to inherit the family’s lands. In all her studies and her fight training and her grooming to be a baroness herself, she was always told that it was the firstborn who would inherit the land. Nowhere was it stated it must be a son. She knew in all the lordships of the empire that the daughters were married off, yet Adrianna persisted with the intent to be a Baroness herself, not a trophy.

The inevitable failure was not for lack of effort; her parents did try. They found themselves however in a predicament as House Corvello was not in need of any diplomatic marriages. Adrianna knew this from her studies of current politics. She proved to be “quite the handful” as one suitor put it. Her hand was offered to three men from other houses. Her eagerness & tact for governance was often considered as ‘overbearing’ from the men who merely wanted a simple wife. She famously once retorted “I am a warrior and a diplomat, not some simple housewife to a spoiled man-child,” arguing with her mother over why she continued to reject marriage. Though Adrianna had evaded attempts to marry her off, her father Durian Corvello - ever the traditionalist - still decided it must be the eldest son who ascends to power.

At first she was shocked and could not believe that he would deny her perceived birthright from her. Over time her disbelief turned into cynicism and disgust that she was to be barred from having what was hers by right. She was constantly angry at her brothers for being given the golden spoon – at her expense nonetheless – while she had worked her whole life preparing to run the lordship with the prowess of a veteran. In her aggravation and vulnerability, Kassandra preyed on her mind, leading her away from a righteous revenge and towards pure, unrestrained rage. Her father and eldest brother became the point of her fixation as it grew dangerously more violent. She grew excessively brutal during sparring, holding back none of her pent up rage against her father. Hushed whispers among the servants spread through the palace, believing she would snap any day. Some suspected she would kill her own father when she did, while others bet that she would lead the First Company on some crazy quest in her delusion.

When she did snap, it was just as fierce as could be expected, and about as damaging. She kicked in the doors of the throne room intent on challenging her own father to an honor duel for control over the lordship. Durian would not stand for his own child to dare challenge his authority, and called upon the guardsmen to remove her. As expected, she took exceptionally poorly to the refusal, severely injuring several in the ensuing melee. She beat down nearly a dozen well-trained soldiers before she was finally cornered and forced from the room. In seething rage she took what she could, stole a horse, set fire to the stables at the same time, and rode off towards Gods know where, hell-bent on taking back 'her' lordship by force.

S K I L L S
X Strongarm Diplomacy
Adrianna is used to getting her way, even if ... especially if that involves twisting someone's arm behind their back with a white smile and a silver tongue. She is studied in the arts of diplomacy, in her own flavor as always from her tenacity. She's not above making enemies of people if it means getting what she wants. Leverage is infinitely more powerful than goodwill.

X Speed Fighter
Adrianna is formally trained to strike often and strike fast, whether by fist or by blade. Her teaching covered a variety of weapon styles, such that if it's light enough and sharp enough, she can be dangerous with it. Though she carries a rather unique blade of her own, her skill set ensures that she is almost never truly without a weapon. Any enemy's sword can potentially become her own blade in an instant.

W E A P O N S
X Svardstav
A norse bladed staff (literally: sword-staff) with a fourteen inch double-edged steel blade on one end. The weapon caters to her speed-fighting skill and helps keep distance over an opponent, mitigating her moderate frailty.

X Throwing Knives
An eight-piece set of nine inch throwing knives. Though she finds them of limited usefulness presently - as she is not practiced at throwing knives at all - she carries them anyway, practicing the skill when she can. When supplemented with aetheric powers, the knives act less like thrown objects and more like guided missiles, seemingly flying with a mind of their own by Adrianna's distant hand.

O T H E R
X Lorem Ipsum
List any other relevant attributes or items here.




K A S S A N D R A M A L I S T A R E
{{ FEMALE }}

T O T E M
Small turquoise pendant, strung on a black ribbon worn around Adrianna's neck.

P E R S O N A L I T Y
To call Kassandra Malistare anything short of psychopathic would be a disservice. She derives sick pleasure not just from killing, but from doing so slowly and personally. Even among the Legion her twisted tortures were sometimes considered excessive. Some of them even believed that it was that bloodlust that led them to ruin, that it did nothing to bring them closer to their goals.

The dark aether they channeled, the Dark Gods they served, the powers of Hell they commanded, all of it thrives on lust and rage and pain and its influence is corrupting. Several of the Legionnaires came around to similar affinities for violence and slaughter, taking whatever they wanted and cutting down anyone in their way. The Legionnaires who resisted were ultimately right - that their obsession led them to failure for seeking war itself rather than seeking an ultimate victory - but it was those who embraced the inner darkness that grew the strongest.

Adrianna likes to think she's above that level of sadism, though Kassandra chose her for a reason. She sees the same potential for darkness in Adrianna that led her down this path. Her lust for power drives her to corrupt another soul, preying on Adi's desire for a crown of her own. Adrianna fights against her influence some of the time, both out of an arrogance she is better, but also partially out of the fear that she isn't.

S K I L L S
X Projectile Levitation
Kassandra herself carried a set of throwing daggers in her day. It was by her compulsion that Adrianna carries them as well. Though not strictly requiring the knives - rocks off the ground will do in a bind - she prefers the surgical precision of a few sharp blades. Her manipulation of the knives is lethally precise, turning them into deadly ranged, chain attacks.

X Fade
To better utilize her smallish weapons against swords and pikes, Kassandra honed the skill of fading: ceasing to exist in one location and coming to exist in another. The distance she can travel is not infinite, requiring both sight on end position, and a path (though not necessarily a path large enough for a human; any crevice can do).

O T H E R
X Unfair Fight
Kassandra thrives on fighting outnumbered. Her own arrogance in her skills - albeit not typically unwarranted - compels her to ruthlessly cut down whole regiments at once rather than picking a more intelligent, favorable battle.
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Sierra The Dark Lord

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"This is not a story of heroes. This is not a tale of brave men risking life and limb, embarking on a quest to save the world from a coming evil, no. There are no heroes in Avalon anymore. This is a story of the forgotten, of women and men cast aside and left without hope. Wronged, cast out, beaten or belittled, perhaps even scarred or maimed ... this is a story of those the eye does not see, those chosen by powerful forces to do one thing:
TEAR THE WORLD DOWN


"Nobody is a villain in their own story. We're all the heroes of our own stories."
-- George R.R. Martin




Sometimes it's boring being a hero. This is a story about those least likely to save the world. These people have secretly been chosen by the lingering souls of powerful mages to carry on a quest as old as Avalon itself. The Shadow Legion - twelve sorcerers imbued with the magic of the dark gods and a strength unmatched in all of Avalon - sought to unite the world by force, razing and levelling the great cities of the kingdoms they sought to destroy. The wizards and witches and warlocks of Avalon banded together to stop the Legion's onslaught, but to do so cost them the Nexus - the hub of the Aether: source of their own power and the greatest gift to Avalon. Five centuries have past and now the souls of the Legion's sorcerers have chosen their successors. With the power of the Aether stripped from Avalon, there is nothing to stand in their way. This world owes you nothing, and now you carry the power to redefine the world order. You are the Shadow Legion.



The Roleplay

The Expectations:
  • This is an advanced level RP due to the duality of the character you will play. You are essentially playing two characters in one, a task which not everyone will be up to. You are expected to be prepared for this coming in.
  • This is a dark RP. Violence, blood, gore, death and destruction are all common themes. I am not here to encourage holding back. You are expected to be aware of this coming in.
  • The standard rules of roleplay etiquette apply here. Godmodding, powerplaying, or metagaming will not be tolerated. Offenders will answer to the GM and offenses may result in ejection from the RP.
  • A soft content minimum is in place. One/two line responses are disrespectful to the GM and to the other players who are writing vastly more. If such brevity is in fact appropriate, consider writing a collab post with the relevant individuals.
  • Activity and communication are expected. I am rather lenient on delays if you communicate with me. Individuals who vanish with no communication are at risk for ejection from the roleplay following as little as one week.
  • The GM reserves the right to make final decisions as needed. Decisions clearly indicated as final are not open for discussion, contestation, or argument.

The Characters:
The player characters are those chosen by the remnant souls of the Legionnaires of long ago. They carry with them a small trinket, likely of no real value, that secretly harbors one of these souls: their totem. The soul speaks to them - just in subconscious whispers at first but regaining a full persona over time - guiding them towards a new fate. Over time the player characters learn to interact with their mentor souls and harness their power: the power of the wraith. Should their host allow it, the spirits can temporarily inhabit the host's body, lending them all their knowledge and mystical power for a time. While debilitatingly exhausting to the untrained, practice can allow its near-indefinite use.

These souls are not always the most benevolent creatures. After all, these are the spirits of the so-called "greatest evil to walk this world." Characters may not always see eye to eye with their companion, or they may embrace their rage. No two chosen will walk the same path.

There are twelve Legionnaires, which means there are twelve chosen including the GM's character. There are thus eleven places for players. These places will be granted based on order of CS approval. The first character sheets approved get the first slots.

The Plot:
Far-flung and as-of-yet unaware of just what they are chosen to be, the player characters begin finding themselves subtly drawn to a location, compelled by a force they cannot yet understand. Their totems guide them to assemble the Legion Reincarnate. Thus begins the quest to fell the great kingdoms and raise the black flag over all Avalon. The more battles waged, the more practiced and capable the reincarnate Legion becomes, but the more aware their adversaries become of their existence. The party will have to choose between toppling their greatest threats quickly through stealth and deception, or properly mastering their newfound abilities to overpower even their strongest opponents.

In some degrees, the plot for this is on rails. There are various plot elements I have planned for already and there is an ultimate end. However the amount of time between the between the beginning and the end is indeterminate. The roleplay can run for as long as interest exists. I encourage players to develop plot arcs they wish to see played out and discuss these. I will happily weave these in, as my own planning is ultimately finite, hence I will source plot content from players fairly regularly.

The World:
The world of Avalon has been heavily built out at the macro level. Nearly a millennium of history has been developed for it. However, the world is an open playground for micro-level worldbuilding. I have developed the framework sufficiently for this to exist. Players are allowed and encouraged to develop the details of the world as the roleplay progresses. This is a living project to be developed in collaboration with all those who participate. A fairly large (but far from comprehensive) overview of relevant information is included below. Additional info will be appended as people ask questions about things not already covered.

The Main Thread:
This is not the main interest check thread. That is located [url=http://<url_here>]in Advanced Checks[/url] where a character sheet template can be found, a large quantity of lore is available, and I am readily answering questions about the world, the plot, and helping with character-building. This duplicate check is for exposure purpose and serious interest should be directed towards the main thread.
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RISE



“Your grace, I seek guidance.”
His majesty Artuur Vahkran bowed to but one man in all of Avalon. The sorcerer Ustizor the Ancient. Rumor argues he has sustained his life well beyond his mortal limits in service to Artuur, his father before him, and his father's father before then. No one knows what he is truly capable of. His knowledge is unquestionably unrivaled, but the aether is so strained in Avalon even he might be unable to summon more than token magic. The kings of the empire long believed in his abilities to sense the future, employing him for his wisdom and guidance.
“You seek that-” rasped the ancient wizard “-which you already know.”
Vahkran rose from his knee, gazing into the blank silhouette at the floor-to-ceiling tower window. “Do you not believe the prophecy, your grace?”
“You claim to fear nothing, Artuur ... yet I sense you fear this... fantasy, above all.”
The infallible ruler of the Imperium seemed almost ashamed, like a chastised schoolboy who wouldn’t keep his hands to himself. “So you do not believe it ...”
“The supposed day of reckoning has come to pass, Artuur,” Ustizor hissed, “I sensed no disturbance, and not one evil ha-” a sickness overtook the fraile wizard, stumbling to a knee.
“Your grace... your grace!” Artuur trembled at the sight, only to rush to his aid post haste, “what is wrong?”
“You were right... Artuur,” the wizard strained to whisper, “they ... have awoken.”




“Am I gonna be a queen daddy?”
“One day Adi, yes you will...”


“Swords up, let’s go again.”

“... proud to announce ... Victor will be my first heir ...”
“You lied to me!” “...you are not ready...”
“Like hell I'm not ...”
“Adrianna ....”

“COWARD!”
“Know your place child!”
“Then face me like a man!”

“WAKE UP!”

Adrianna jolted awake, drenched in sweat and without breath. The nightmares were getting worse. 'It'll get better ... when it's not so fresh.' It was still only days ago that she stormed out. Parts of her body still ached from beating down nearly a dozen guardsmen, and then riding into the plainslands for hours on end, well into the dark of night. It unsettled her nonetheless to hear those voices again, those words and ... something else. Something called to her, she could hear it so vividly, but there was no one around her. Only smoldering embers and flickering stars kept her company.
"Adrianna ..." something whispered from ... behind her she thought.
Frantically she searched for the voice. But she was alone in the darkness, just her and Gods know whatever was toying with her.
"Adrianna ..." louder this time.
Adrianna scrambled for her staff. "Who's there!?" she yelled into night.
Even the insects had gone quiet, the overpowering stillness enveloping the campsite. All she could hear was her own heavy breathing, her heart pounding in her chest, and whatever was haunting her. "Gods have mercy I'm losing my mind."
Her breathing finally came under control, the white-knuckle grip on her weapon relaxing at last. She poked at the embers, rekindling their glow a fragment. The trees whistled as a breeze came in, stoking the dead fire for her. The wind whispered to her in the same hauntingly familiar voice, chilling Adrianna to the bone once more. "Silverwick"
What the hell was at Silverwick? The place was a scorched wasteland; nothing but the ruins of a fallen city remained even after centuries. No one dared venture to the sight of such a tragedy. Adrianna could be sure of only one thing: she would find out. She settled back in for the night, hoping for a shred more sleep. She could ride out towards Silverwick at first light.



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MIRANDA ALVAREZ
][ FEMALE ][ TECH SPECIALIST ][ COMBAT ENGINEER ][ 37 ][


“Name’s Mira. I build shit, and it breaks other people’s shit. Pay me enough, and I’ll break whoever’s shit you want.”



THE VEKAAN

image credit

BIOLOGY
A typical example of the Vekaan species measures up roughly equivalent in stature to it’s human counterpart. The notable cartilaginous protrusions from the head serve no major biological function directly. Their appearance is among the criteria of selecting a mate, as larger, more prominently curled tendrils were preferred by ancestral Vekaan. The evolutionary reason for this development was never clear. Further differentiation exists in a reduced number of digits, having only three on the hands plus an opposable thumb, and only two toes to a foot. These digits grow thicker, harder talon-like nails comparatively.

The sensory organs are more highly attuned, granting wider range in hearing, sight, and in touch. Hypersensitive touch leads to effects that appear to a human as bordering on premonition, but is instead feeling the radiant heat of an approaching body. This requires a more complex and in turn more sensitive nervous system. Vekaan physiology is more prone to going into shock following trauma. Their physiology is also lacking in muscle mass compared to the perceived ‘ideal male’ within human culture. This is somewhat compensated for with a high action potential within what muscle mass is developed, though this lends itself moreso to reflex than it does to raw strength.

Being a high-functioning intellectual species, they have evolved a longer natural lifespan. The legal age of majority is 27, while the age of full maturity is roughly 35 in standard earth years. This is further extended through medical advances and the culture of technological augmentation. Vekaan society believes in the harmony between people and the technology they develop.

SOCIETY
The Vekaan are a proud people, sometimes too much so for their own good. Hailing originally from the world known to humans as Cliea 23-P15, they formed what they considered a vast empire among the stars. The dozen or so planetary systems under their control however was merely a fledgling interstellar empire, dwarfed by the infinite, inexorable expansion of man into the cosmos, for it was man that ultimately found them.

As a culture they believe in the use of violence only when absolutely necessary, never for personal gain or shortsighted actions. Man did not present itself to them as an ominous conqueror, and thus the Vekann people acquiesced to their demands. Many of their people have been spread across human-controlled space, and what remains of their sovereign claim grows restless under the thumb of man.




HISTORY
Born to a no-show deadbeat human father and her Vekaan mother, Mira was caught in the worst of two worlds. A half-breed, too human for her own identity and too alien for the society she’s stuck in. The world of Nechu her mother called home is a world of human aristocrats mostly. Everyone here was well off and stuck up about it. The poorest of the planet were treated like refuse. Out of sight, out of mind. The fact nothing ever worked helped Mira learn to tinker and fix things. Her mother wanted her to feel like she belonged, pushing her more towards her human roots. Even her name was strongly human in lieu of traditional naming. But that was not the path for Mira, a nickname she took to lean away from human culture.

She enlisted in the Nechu Imperial Naval Academy at the age of 20, old compared to other cadets but still firmly an adolescent for a Vekaan. By her third year in the academy she had just barely come up short of making it into command school. “It isn’t about what you know or what you can do, it’s about who you know and who’s bankrolling you.”
She never stopped tinkering with things and practicing her building skills. Notably, she modified the control gauntlets the cadets were issued for battle sim training to include the power cell and voltage transformer from a stun gun. Cadet Phenix, with whom she had multiple past altercations thanks in part to his familial ties and his abrasive personality, found out about her unsanctioned modification the painful way. She was later expelled from the academy in lieu of charges being filed for her assault.

For some time after she took an apprenticeship under an engineer, on a PMC cruiser, the ACS Apollo. Her affinity for weaponsmithing made itself apparent here, and the handsome corporate pay opened the door to her current collection of cybernetic augments, again keeping with her Vekaan heritage in spite of her human half. She also began developing the first iteration of her drone tech while on rotation aboard the Apollo.

After the Apollo, she has floated from ship to ship, improving her gear as she goes and serving as an engineer and mercenary for hire. An engineer who brings weapons and doesn’t hesitate to be in the thick of the lethal action is a rare commodity, provided the CO can get past having a half-breed on board.

][ HALF-BREED ][ FORMER NAVY CADET ][ MERCENARY-ENGINEER FOR HIRE ][

PERSONALITY

She’s easily irritated, but tends to not act on it, not at first at least. She instead tends to retreat to her work, tinkering with her armor or her drone or her weapon to distract her. If she’s pushed enough times however despite repeated denials, she is liable to snap back. The ensuing violent outburst is typically quick and decisive, enough to send the message clearly that the topic is not open for discussion. She is particularly sensitive about being a half-breed. In the naval academy she constantly caught flak for it, and has since grown particularly touchy about it. Nechu was not a kind place for a destitute half-breed Vekaan.

She comes across as closed-off, and often times absent and dismissive to random passers-by. When hired on a ship, she’s more professional, but still always with the air of being difficult to approach about other subjects. Her attitude has always been that she’s good at what she does, and who she is when she’s off duty is none of anyone’s concern. It takes a special kind of person and a lot of patience to get her to open up, but the seemingly-impossible task can be done given time. Even if she isn’t chatty, she’s a valuable resource on a ship and in a fight.

APPEARANCE
Her human half has left her with a smoother, softer face and relatively small tendrils. She has more toes on her feet, four per, than would be normal for her kind, and her skin lacks the same leathery quality on her hands and feet. Her eyes ended up an emerald green and retained their cat-like irises. Her whole body is more heavyset and less fine-boned, though the purple coloration on much of her body remains as prominent as a full-blooded Vekaan, much to her relief.

She actively dislikes her human attributes, seeing it as a source of shame and weakness, and dives headlong into traditional culture where she can. There are two small silver bits above her brow line near her temples: small bits of her cybernetics. Her more noticeable vestiges are a series of small contact points at eye level around the side and rear of her head, where her control visor sits much of the time.

EQUIPMENT
R-101 SOAR
The R-101 Special Operations Assault Rifle is an in-house weapon developed by Pantheon Asset Protection Corp, the PMC she worked for aboard the Apollo. It chambers the modern 5.5x36mm ‘berserker’ round designed to maintain accuracy and stopping power without sacrificing its excessive rate of fire.

Powertech Systems Ltd. Microweave Armor System
Her armor starts with a full-body microweave suit, then equipping thin composite plating for protection against actual weapons fire. When a stronger power cell component or more durable armor is called for, extra armor segments can be affixed to the existing skeleton to form a more intermediate-level power armor. This configuration affords more robust energy systems to support ancillary hardware such as energy weapons, shield systems, drone charging, etc.image credits

Sentry Drone
Mira’s sentry drone is a walking platform with eight stumpy legs arranged around its roughly circular form. It acts as a mobile turret that mounts its own autonomous computer systems, multi-sensor targeting suite with IFF, and 300 rounds of ammo for the 20mm GMG (Gauss Machine Gun) it mounts. The weapon is a slow-firing sledgehammer of a gun that truly earns its classification of an autocannon. The drone features magnetic feet to enable unimpeded operations in zero G environments aboard spacecraft. The machine is controlled through a visor that links to her neural implants, allowing Mira direct control over it with no physical input required. She seemingly treats the thing like a pet, despite being a 90kg, meter-wide gun platform that can rip a man in half with one shell.
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Miranda ‘Mira’ Amaar
“No one can pilot a mechanical.”

Age 19
(personal notes: moroccan-nigerian)

Personality:

Brilliant, tenacious, and fiercely independent. She’s willful, but that’s what makes her scary as a mech pilot. She has the makings of a great engineer in her, but it’s somewhat gone to her head and grown a degree of arrogance. To that end she’s fiercely protective of Legion and is picky with who she lets work on it. Those on the service team for the machine are among her most trusted associates, most being transfers from Tshwane for that reason. The mech is very much her baby ... a massive, 80 ton metal baby.
(personal notes: Amara + Shuri)

Backstory:

She never really did what the legends say. Even the elements of truth to her tale are dripping with hyperbole. But even since before the Great Fire, truth was never more than half of any good legend.

They say she did it alone. Really she was only one of many worked on the project and a mal-envisioned one at that. Just inside the fringes of Paragon territory in what was once Morocco was a chaotic region with both bandits and Paragon soldiers constantly a threat. The families that lived there were constantly in fear of the next attack, struggling to get by every time their supplies were pillaged. The settlement needed a weapon, a mech of their own to hold off bandit raids and scare away hotshot corporals coming to impress people into service. The big break would come one fateful day when the dust settled from a corporate skirmish.

Three full-size Neural Combatants had fallen just a few kilometers away. The shantytown had been rattled for hours by the explosions of the battle. A few warriors were able to ambush a salvage crew trying to recover the precious neural nets from the downed mechs. The neural cores themselves were all shot, run through with anti-tank warheads or heavy piercing weapons, but the salvage mech being utilized was completely intact barring a few bullet holes and a blood stain on the harness. The industrial salvage suits weren’t neurally interfaced, relying on the less-capable mechanical control interface, but a working skeleton of a mech was still a better trophy than nothing.

Mira was among those working on the machine, being an inquisitive youth and a brilliant mind. Her unique way of thinking solved several problems with the armor fitting and with ammo feeding. She also served as one of the regular test pilots and became rather proficient at it over time, though she would not go on to be the mech’s regular combat pilot. Nevertheless she did operate the mech in combat once out of necessity, when a surprise raiding attack pinned down all the other trained pilots. The machine, christened Vanguard by its design team, was brutally effective at defending against raiding attacks by bandits and even Paragon, but the news that an independent village in northwest Africa had a working combat-capable mech ended up drawing more frequent attacks rather than deterring them even if they were easier than ever to put down. A variety of bandit clans thought they could steal the mech for themselves, but none were ever successful.

The story of her time in combat swept the desert faster than the summer dust storms, twisting itself into a legendary fable as it traveled. It became farther from reality with each passing mile and by the time it reached former Somalia, it was the story of the girl who built her own mech. Somewhere along the way some charlatan had snuck in the rumor she had taken on a real NC and won, which couldn’t have been farther from the truth. The largest thing ever destroyed by Vanguard was a lone IFV, and not at Mira’s hand. Vanguard stood barely 3 meters at full stature and couldn’t take a hit from anything larger than 9.3mm high-power, lead alone any of the gamut of energy weapons a real NC could be carrying.

For quite obvious reasons, Tshwane Mining was very interested in the supposed ‘girl who built her own mech’. Despite the exaggerations in the so-called “Legend of Mira Amaar”, she had still piloted a mechanical in combat at the age of sixteen. Mechanicals, non-combat mechs notable for their mechanical control interface harnesses, were widely considered impossible to utilize as combat platforms due to sluggishness, lack of feedback, and the physical exertion of controlling the machine. The interface style had never even been considered on a combat vehicle due to its inability to compete with neural interfaces. She was recruited by the company as an apprentice engineer with the offer to construct her own mech at their expense. Thus began the long process that would culminate with the completion of Legion. She, and the mech she calls her own, are on loan with a mercenary company based east of the horn of Africa.

Tactical Preferences and Skills:

Interfacing:
Mira pilots her mech through a hybrid interface, perhaps the only one in the world. Sensor data, sensory and haptic feedback, and secondary control functions are handled through a neural interface. The primary movement control and weapon triggers are a physical harness. The mechanical interfacing favors her existing experience and lets her cheat the sync score system in order to pilot when she should not be able to by all accounts.

Synchronicity:
Her synchronization score for a full-control setup is far too low to ever operate a true NC, measuring around 35% in testing. The unique hybrid interface of Legion essentially cheats the system. The reduced neural load of not controlling the mech’s movement inflates her sync score to 60%, making effective piloting possible. Her neural implants are located just behind her temples, maximizing interface with the sensory regions of the brain but do not interface at all with motor control.

Combat:
Legion is a behemoth of a mech, built for heavy fire. Being such a massive vehicle makes it sluggish in combat, but the vehicle’s lack of mobility conceals the sluggishness of her unique interface setup. The pacing of the mech is in many ways a necessity, though it also enables a very methodical combat style.

Mira opted to mimic the combat capabilities of the Vanguard mech which essentially served as a prototype for Legion’s design. The left arm would carry a high volume of fire weapon to suppress and shred lighter targets, while the right arm was a massively powerful weapon that could obliterate targets given an accurate shot. To this end, she naturally gravitated towards the fitting of a rotary cannon and a railgun, and then opting for more military-traditional ammunition types, rather than Tshwane-signature diamond-boron rounds. She fervently argues that depleted uranium APFSDS penetrating slugs are better against armored targets anyway.



Legion
“Fear Nothing.”
Long-range Heavy Weapons Specialist, bipedal humanoid, hybrid-mechanical
Development:

Legion bears the same rough formfactor as its Vanguard predecessor, though with several key upgrades made during its development as a military grade war machine. The weapons are bolted directly to the elbow joint, rather than being underslung against an existing forearm structure. The torso region now fully encloses the com-pod rather than leaving lightly-armored protruding arm housings. This has necessitated the vehicle be quite large, even moreso than initial expectations. Its natural hunched posture reduces its height by several meters, though if it stands fully erect it exceeds 14 meters from ground to sensor pod.

It is fitted with a modern neural net and interfacing, though it was at Mira’s insistence that the primary movement and weapons control remain tied to a mechanical interface. This hybrid control scheme is unheard of in modern mecha, widely considered impossible, and is possibly the only example in the world. The mech also features voice key detection and a mixed reality display in the com-pod as backup systems in the event the neural interface fails for whatever reason. It is thus theoretically possible for anyone to pilot Legion regardless of sync rating, though in practice it is not that simple at all.

Its backside features four modular mounting positions in a four-square pattern. One on each side is always used for ammunition storage for the mech’s primary armaments, and the second is available for mounting ancillary weapons systems. Different options are available depending on the use of the upper or lower mount for a given side. Generally, the upper mounts are utilized for missile-based weapons while the lower mounts receive smaller direct-fire weapons. Both secondary armaments are fully retractable, concealing them from frontal fire.
Armaments:

Primary:
-35mm ballistic rotary chaingun
A vicious high ROF weapon chambered in large caliber SAPHEI-T ammunition firing from a rotary tri-barrel on the left arm that is used for shredding through unarmored to moderately armored targets.

-75mm high precision railgun
An extreme-range weapon chambered in DU-APFSDS penetrating slugs on the right arm optimized for effectively defeating heavily armored targets.

Secondary:
-Multipurpose Tactical Missiles (upper)
These missiles include a highly advanced targeting computer enabling a variety of different flight profiles, ranging from direct attack to a high-arc artillery style approach that rains death from above. They come in various sizes, each striking a different balance between individual destructive power and raw quantity. Mira tends to prefer fewer missiles with each packing a sizable tandem HEAT warhead.

-MGL cannons (lower)
Magnetic Grenade Launcher tech was developed to lob high explosive shells long distances in the hands of a rifleman. The magnetic acceleration coils provided far more punch than traditional grenade round propellant charges. When adapted to mechanized combat, the technology takes the form of a short-barreled 60mm gun firing polymer-stabilized HESH shells. The weapons are useful for short to medium range combat, being limited by low velocity and relatively poor aerodynamics.
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Visions of Futures
A Collection of Interesting Ideas

Some of you familiar with how I do things probably know how this works. What we have here are a collection of concepts, none of which are anywhere close to being a full roleplay just yet. I post these when I have multiple general ideas but no plan for which to prioritize. Interest and feedback guide my efforts to whichever seems most likely to attract people. So without further ado, here's my latest collection of machinations for your consideration, commentary, and critique.


Yet Another Alien Apocalypse ...
... this time with mechs.

They came once before, and the casualties were in the hundreds of millions. We knew they would be back, and that we had to be ready. But all that was 30 years ago. This generation grew up without the experience of our very existence being threatened ... but they are our salvation now. They made planetfall 15 days ago, and we have since mobilized everything we have. This time, it will not be a desperate struggle to save our skin. This time they will know they fucked with the wrong planet.

This story follows a bunch of relatively young pilots too young to remember firsthand just what the enemy did to mankind. Nonetheless, they are the soldiers that will stand and fight wielding a variety of mechs developed to counter these hostiles. A main battle tank demands a well-trained crew of three, but a vehicle mimicking the human form takes less training and only a single operator to wield with lethal effectiveness. The mechs are somewhat prefab - military issue and all - but beyond being one of a number of chassis available, the weapon layouts are completely customizable. Exactly how customization is handled is still very up in the air since I want to give as much player freedom as I believably can.
Feedback Wanted.


2077: Fantasies and Nightmares
Just forty stories separate the Gods from the Slaves

That enigmatic titling aside, this is a cyberpunk idea (hence my cheeky reference to the future GOTY whenever it bothers to release) that exists somewhere between the grim predictions of Deus Ex and the colorfully deceptive dystopia of Cyberpunk 2077. At one point this concept looked every different and even toed into the realm of high sci-fi where ludicrous technologies would be accepted without question, but my intents have shifted. In this world your height in society is a very literal construct. The elites with their helicopters and penthouses live high above the rest, leaving the populous that build their world out of sight and out of mind. I keep going back and forth on how grim to make the lower portions of this very vertical world. That and I keep debating exactly how to start off the players (no, true sandbox is not going to happen).
Feedback Wanted.


More Than a Man
Great power brings great irresponsibility ...

I actually keep flip-flopping between doing this as superpower or modern magic. The fundamental difference is that superpower actually opens the door to some of that high sci-fi gadgetry I mentioned earlier (Tony Stark doesn't have any superpowers but that doesn't stop him from kicking ass). Meanwhile the modern magic route has involves a more interesting (albeit more laborious) worldbuild. I'm probably going to settle on the former option because that eliminates the need to work the high sci-fi elements into somewhere it probably won't work as well. This idea is extremely preliminary.
Feedback Wanted.



Thanks for bothering to read what is essentially a minimally-organized public brainstorm. I definitely and looking for some thoughtful feedback on all of these, as well as just some general commentary on what's most interesting to people. This is mostly for me to really decide what's the best route to go in terms of developing my next roleplay project. I like to be extremely thorough even before my projects go up for interest check so the potential for a lot of wasted time is real.
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The bloodiest witch hunt in history ... No one is innocent, no one is safe.

Welcome to 17th century Massachusetts. Something is going bump in the night and the common folk are not well. Children in the picture of health have fallen ill with sicknesses no doctor can describe; a stable set ablaze in the dead of night without even a candle near. The unnatural has awakened in Salem Village. The wheels of deadly machines turn steadily ... and those who know the truth scramble to the shadows.


It's been a long time since I last even thought about this concept. History makes an interesting set piece for a tale of family, intrigue, betrayal, and the supernatural. This is primarily an RP of secrets, lies, trust, and betrayal. The supernatural elements are mostly a flavor sprinkling. (I've done this RP with that at the forefront and power creep is inevitably an issue.) With that in mind, here's a preliminary taste at a revival of one of my old favorites the Guild never knew.
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192.168.17.221:\ access_DB personnel_records
accessing ...
successful.
192.168.17.221:\ getRecord 10135441-6630
loading ...

ACCESS_ID: wtcard8184
ACCESS_DATE: 2351.08.04

NOTICE:
* “All information contained is proprietary, under the umbra of Panopticon Securities L.L.C., and is considered confidential unless otherwise noted.”
* “This record requires RED-2 clearance or above to view.”
* “Parts of this record have been redacted for security purposes. Contact Jian Group for more information.”

NAME: TAKEDA, KIRIDO
OP_ID: 6844323168
CLEARANCE: RED-4
STATUS: 01 - OPERATIONAL
DOB: 2317.08.22
SEX: F
RACE: ASIAN
HGT(CM): 165
WGT(KG): 78
EYES: HAZEL
HAIR: BLACK

MED_EVAL: AVAILABLE
PSYCH_EVAL: AVAILABLE
PERF_EVAL: AVAILABLE
EQMT_MFST: AVAILABLE
MISS_LOG: LOCKED

192.168.17.221:\ getRecordDetail 10135441-6630 MED_EVAL
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SUBJECT: TAKEDA, KIRIDO
EVALUATOR: ANDERSON, VIVIANNE
STATE: PASS



192.168.17.221:\ getRecordDetail 10135441-6630 PSYCH_EVAL
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SUBJECT: TAKEDA, KIRIDO
EVALUATOR: RODRIGUEZ, DIEGO LOPEZ
STATE: PASS



192.168.17.221:\ getRecordDetail 10135441-6630 PERF_EVAL
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SUBJECT: TAKEDA, KIRIDO
EVALUATOR: CARD, WILLIAM THOMAS
STATE: PASS




192.168.17.221:\ getRecordDetail 10135441-6630 EQMT_MFST
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SUBJECT: TAKEDA, KIRIDO
STATUS: APPROVED





Supplemental Lore:


Hidden 5 yrs ago Post by Sierra
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Sierra The Dark Lord

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E-War had an entire floor of the Branch 35 complex to itself. Their operations room put the war room to shame. E-War’s ops room was the official remote command center for operations. Mobile command vehicles, M-coms, were always there for any real op but the big ones ... the ops that involved aircraft, four or more strike teams, dozens of support personnel, and fell under the highest priority missions ... those used Ops Command. Kira finally rated high enough to run her missions from Ops Command this time, if she wanted to that was. She was a street operative for a long time. The dirty, run-down streets of Arcadia’s backwater slums where gangs large and small squabbled over turf smaller than a single city block day in and day out were her stomping grounds. Kira was raised in the trenches. She wanted to be leading from the front, rifle in hand with the rest of the troops, but one of the drawbacks of commanding a large scale operation like this was a need to see the whole picture constantly. That meant being in Ops Command instead.

Someone was throwing up a bunch of chatter near the target, but their security was giving E-War a run for their money, which was an impressive feat to say the least. As one tech had put it, “no one layer is particularly difficult but there’s more layers here than an overgrown vidalia onion on steroids.”
E-War was apparently able to brute force it in about five minutes if they wanted to, but the silent approach required roughly 60 seconds per layer over 30 or more layers. The amateurish implementation was not helping them either. Fortunately they weren’t limited to that as their main method of tracking their target. E-War’s reach was seemingly infinite. It wasn’t clear if their mark had already vacated the premises but if she was still there then there would inevitably be a massive gunfight. 2B was not going to be taken down quietly.

The teams were mobilizing in V-72 Kaiju aircraft for fast response. Among the transport birds was also an AV-72F model, a VTOL gunship with enough firepower to level the building they were preparing to storm. All the birds were warmed up and ready to go, just pending positive ID on the target. The drone circling over north Gahjotia would make short work of that. The overhead feed of the dilapidated warehouse commandeered the largest region of Ops Command’s wall-to-wall display. “MSIP online, scanning.”

The multi-spectral imaging platform: an absolute miracle of modern optical tech. The suite equipped to the drone could tell them height, gender, approximate age, and the class of weapon drawn, all through the roof of the structure being surveilled. If their target, Baines, so much as stepped outside of that building, E-War would have positive identification in seconds. That though required her to step outside. By the drone’s live feed, that moment appeared to have passed. Every body detected within the building appeared very dead, and the live bodies were mostly in vehicles already. The few who were successfully identified were just meaningless grunts that could be tracked down and interrogated later.

“Shit, they’re already on the move!” Takeda swore, scrambling for a contingency, “can we retask more drones? We cannot lose any of these victors!”
“Negative boss not before we lose half of them,” came the disappointing status report.
“Then what satellites are overhead right now?”
Drones could provide better imaging in almost every case but tracking a lot of objects in a relatively large area was one realm that a satellite could in fact produce better results.
“None of our own,” again the E-War team making a disappointing report, “but uh, we have Drake Tech’s OnyxSat overhead for the next ninety minutes.”
“Steal that. We never did get along with Drake Tech anyway,” she gave her orders and then stepped towards the back of the room.

A moment to breathe was pleasant. They were too late to grab Baines, and if she slipped away now then all the effort put into tracking her was for nought. It was a frustrating thought that could cloud her judgement were she not careful. Her moment of peace truly was only a moment though before something else interfered. A new face had shown up bearing gifts ... or work. Manilla folders were enigmatic like that. “S.S.A. Takeda?”
That was her cue to go back to work. “Yes that’s my name, don’t wear it out kid.”
“Looks like Panopticon is trying to kiss our asses from earlier. They sent over contact info for over two dozen deep cover assets and recent intelligence reports. I’ve been going through them and I found something your boss told me to show you A.S.A.P.”

Kira took the folder from the messenger and flipped it open on an empty nearby workstation. “What’s your name kid?”
“Agent Sam Irwin ...ma’am.”
“I’ll accept Sir if it makes a woman outranking you easier Agent.”
“It's not that, its... are you really a Yakuza hitman?” he chomped on his foot, promptly backpedalling “I mean before you were Jian, of course ...”
“Almost six years. And before you ask, yes I am exactly as dangerous as everyone has led you to believe and this is good shit Agent,” Kira’s train of thought jumping the tracks part way through responding.

The junior agent just nodded, impressed at her reputation and thankful he had been useful. Kira flagged one of the E-War techs and started privately discussing the file. Irwin took a step to try and hear but before he could do any real eavesdropping, it was over. “Get a drone up over Lawrence Plaza, south tower. I don’t care what we need to retask. I want eyes there now!”
“Sir that’s all the way in Pleiades-”
“Source from Panopticon inside Bachman & Clench says Nazyashi is making a move from there. Bachman & Clench is on the 23rd floor of Lawrence Plaza number four tower, south. We’re looking for their courier. If Nazyashi is making a move then we’re intercepting their play and hijacking it for our own purposes.”
A switch had flipped in Takeda. Before all of Jian was gearing up to take on 2B, the Black Brethren. Now the op she was running had seemingly changed gears to hunt the package manually, and to screw over Nazyashi. “What are we looking for then?”
“We want their courier when they leave the tower. Remembering how the Consortium works, they will be poor, unkempt, and uncomfortable. They will likely appear out of place in Pleiades and under duress. Background will be low income, high susceptibility to blackmail. If they still prey on the same type I remember, expect a young female, 16 to 28 ... keep an eye out for hand injuries.”

Kira turned to leave Ops Command, “I’m gonna need my gear,” muttered under her breath.
“How’d you know all that? It wasn’t in the intel I found ...” Agent Sam asked as she passed by.
“Yakuza hitman, remember? Now Agent I need you to get in contact with that source. Panopticon must have given us a way to contact them. Find out everything you can about that courier and bring it to the guys here in Ops Command.”
Both of them left the room and went separate ways down the halls.

Agent Sam was back in not quite fifteen minutes with yet another ambiguous manilla folder in hand. The Panopticon asset inside Bachman & Clench had answered his phone and paved the way to El Dorado for them. He had a full face and clothing description for the E-War techs to apply to the tracking software. To make matters easier, the recording storage on the lobby cameras was poorly secured behind basic login and drive encryption. At his suggestion, they were able to run back the lobby cams to find her entering and make the tracking data that much more complete. Face identification would give them background info soon enough. Takeda was right it seemed that Nazyashi Consortium preferred young women. It should have surprised no one in Jian at this point, but the junior agent was not yet a grizzled pessimist. He feared for what that syndicate of criminals had planned for her.

‘S.S.A. Takeda,’ as he knew her, came back with her usual complement of bad guy harming tools, ready to dash out on a moment's notice. As if by providence, that moment came almost the instant she re-entered the room. “Target acquired! Courier just showed up in the lobby. Drone is ready to track.”
Without a word, Kira was gone, dashing down the hallway at a dead run. William Card had come to check on her around this time, hoping she was no longer interested in berating him, and was nearly put on the ground. “Kira where are you running!” he had to yell after her for she was stopping for no man.
“Found an asset!” was all she had the time to answer before reaching the stairwell doors and heading for the garage.
Card turned his head to see Sam Irwin staring dumbfounded outside Ops Command and went to pursue answers. “She should be on channel 5,” he muttered as he put in his earpiece, “Oh shit ... she’s mirroring.”
Agent Irwin was confused at whatever Card saw on the main display. “Sir?”
“She's thinking with her rage and not her head.”
Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Sierra
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Sierra The Dark Lord

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R. E. S. E. T.
Inspired by Cyberpunk 2077, Deus Ex, and Altered Carbon


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Thank you for putting your trust in Eden Star Medical Technologies. As a valued member, we would like to introduce you to our latest offering, the Reimplantation and Excision System for Emergency Trauma, R.E.S.E.T. This state-of-the-art network allows instantaneous imaging, transmission, and imprinting of a subject’s neural state between cortexes. We provide a complementary cortex blank, complete with emergency imaging transponder already implanted, available as part of our cutting-edge service for prompt reimplantation. Our proprietary cellular resculpting therapy can guarantee full individualization of a blank in under two hours, getting you back to breathing in record time. We also offer pre-individualized blanks kept on standby as a supplemental service for clients with a need for immediate reimplantation and activation. Personal R.E.S.E.T. endpoint systems are also available on request. Contact sales today for a free consultation. Thank you again for trusting Eden Star, your only source for life insurance you can genuinely experience.

Everyone in Fortuna had heard the words shouted out over the herds from some hologram or another. Everyone knows what it claims to be. Yet so few have ever seen a shred of proof it works that it’s commonly called “rich man’s fools gold” on the streets. The rich who could afford such miracles live forty stories above the landings: the maze of bridges and balconies that support a whole city suspended in air. The upper landing still saw sun, but with sun comes easy access for C-Sec. A few levels down, the lower landing lives in its shadow. Most of the working class that hasn’t succumbed to gangs and crime lords or crippling injuries and rampant disease live here. The failures of urban planning left a cramped, poorly lit, poorly drained clusterfuck of bridges and overhangs and pathways branching from complexes and open-air plazas cut into the skyscrapers that stretch above the clouds themselves. The gangs, crime lords, crippling injuries, and rampant diseases were all that awaited those cast out to ground level. Such poor condemned souls could say goodbye to any form of law and order, health and sanitation, or safety and shelter. Ground level is home to the worst of Fortuna: a haven for everything the corporate overlords have effectively buried beneath dozens of stories of concrete and steel.

Welcome to Fortuna.



PLOT

There are those who seek to dethrone the corporate overlords. Even the power of those who live like gods among men is not infinite. Chief among them was a resistance movement that called itself Fortuna United. Their existence was the closest the working class had ever come to holding real influence in Fortuna until the movement was driven underground. A ruthless C-Sec sting operation left resistance leadership nonexistent. What chain of command was in place was brutally killed in one fell swoop. The citizenry believe the Fortuna United movement to be a thing of the past, but those left who fly the banner will not go down without a fight.

You must pull the resistance together. You alone can rebuild what was and carry the flag to even greater heights. This defeat was a reminder of the power of those that you are doing battle with, but it is not your ultimate demise.
  • Choose your battles carefully; your enemies will react to your aggression.
  • Be aware of your neighbors; local gangs and factions may support or despise you.
  • The people are your life force; popularity will greatly affect your success.
These considerations and more will affect how the world responds to your rebellion and its actions. This is a strong metagame component that might make your life much easier with intelligent grand strategy, might punish you relentlessly for poor choices, or could do something completely unexpected. Always remember: Your actions have consequences.
CHARACTERS

None of the player characters are particularly ranking within the resistance movement. They either escaped the raid early, or were simply not present. They may have a little bit of veterancy or be completely new recruits. It will be up to the players to re-establish a hierarchy and rebuild. The Fortuna United movement as it existed a week ago is gone. What comes next, even if it bears a familiar name, will be something new.

The resistance movement is in shambles. Characters will not be particularly well equipped or well trained. While the streets of ground level may be rife with gang warfare, that hardly passes for experience versus C-Sec troopers. Characters will grow with the rebellion; they are its new heart and soul ... if they can save it.
DEATH

Death is not permanent. Before it was beheaded, the Fortuna United resistance had established a closed-loop R.E.S.E.T. network using stolen hardware. Unlike the next-generation globe-spanning equipment that Eden Star provides, the resistance’s system is severely limited in range and capability. When the Fortuna United leadership was assassinated, the wireless network was jammed by C-Sec, leaving them no escape options.

It is possible for player characters to be effectively resurrected from death by this system. The network the resistance controls is limited in area, with setup of a new node being an important step to preparing an operation. It is limited in its capacity to grow and individualize blanks, generic template bodies with no distinguishing features assigned, which limits the rate people can be brought back. Despite the ability to cheat death, the wait can be up to 48 hours for reimplantation per deceased individual.

The system is not infallible. The players will be made aware as the RP progresses when R.E.S.E.T. is not available. When this is the case, death is very permanent. There will be times when your safety net is taken away from you, though this will not be all the time. Be aware of this when deciding whether to take risks or not.
FORTUNA

The city of fantasies and nightmares. Massive high-rises pierce the clouds, punctuating a landscape that epitomises the phrase “urban sprawl.” The towers themselves are beacons, bastions, and fortresses of luxury in a world otherwise plated in concrete and glowing with neon and holograms. Hundreds of square miles of land have been conquered by the city marching westward, its eastward expansion only halted by running out of land. Its sheer area has been multiplied tenfold moving in the last direction finally possible: up.

The landings make up most of the city beyond the ivory towers. Roads, footbridges, plazas, balconies, and every manner of structure imaginable exists at every level of civilization built atop the last. The levels that can still see the sky are referred to as the upper landing. Rent is higher, but the city is tolerable, even nice, at this level. The inhabitants are mostly low-level corpo workers in suits and ties, filling out paperwork and punching keyboards day in and day out. Life is something close to comfortable in the naturally lit regions of Fortuna. The residents of the upper landing are unlikely to take kindly to a rebellion for now.

The topmost level of the landings is just the most recent construction. Many came before, now resting in the upper’s shadow. As one descends through the levels, construction decays. The city becomes darker, dirtier, wetter, more entangled. These structures define the lower landing. Each level down becomes more of a maze of bridges to get lost in, forced into places they never should have fit by engineers who never should have graduated. It's a grim place to live, but the vast majority of Fortuna’s residents are stuck here working on hourly wages in industrial areas or retail or some other poorly-compensated job. Street vehicles are less common and air traffic is banned. What little airspace there is gets reserved for C-Sec, whose presence is varied and enforcement is draconian. Fortuna United survived here for months under the nose of C-Sec.

The true streets of the original city, before it reached into the sky above, are now a hellhole. Law enforcement and security is basically nonexistent on ground level. Gangs and crime are rampant. Disease and crippling injury fuel black market augmentation businesses. Most permanent residents are more machine than man if they’ve survived any length of time. Even the resistance avoids a constant presence in this abyss.

Technology:
Cybernetics, body augmentation, and medical hardware have reached a new state of the art. Virtually every part of a human body can be replaced with machinery that does the job just as well, or better if the parts are quality.
Hidden 5 yrs ago 5 yrs ago Post by Sierra
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The world of Avalon lives under an unyielding prophecy. As long as intelligent beings can sense and wield the magical powers of the aether, the miraculous energy of the gods that grant mortal beings a mere sliver of their power, then the cycle will continue.

As long as the aether flows, there will rise a congregation of sorcerers taken by the dark powers, united in vision and purpose to upheave and reshape civilization. With their rise, dynasties end.
-- Lord Cairn Christian

King Friedrich Vahlen, third of his name, has stopped at nothing to see the recurrent devastation come to a close. Yet his people resent him. The once-great elven kingdoms of the forests and plains were savagely annihilated half a century ago at the dawn of Johann Vahlen’s reign, and his sights settled on the dwarven people’s of the Siegfried Mountains soon after when the cut off his supply of war gear in protest. They eventually sealed themselves away within their mountain fortresses to avoid a similar fate. The cost of that war was placed squarely on the shoulders of the citizenry as it was a war “for their protection.” Taxes and high demands on the tradesmen of the Vahlens’ kingdom that have not subsided. Now they pay for the tyrannical hunt for any man, woman, or child brave or foolish enough to explore the mystical powers of the aether that are soon to be a relic of a bygone age. Friedrich’s Royal Inquisition listens around every corner and pounces without mercy on those caught.

Now the fifth incarnation of the Sorcerers’ Cycle is upon the world. The Kingdom of Man is poised to finally crush the sorcerers’ rise once and for all. The only obstacle remaining is to find them among the populous. But a rumor is spreading throughout the kingdom: This incarnation of the cycle could undo much of what the Vahlen family has done in its long and bloody tenure; that the races of Avalon long thought extinguished would return to save humanity from its grim fate, whether they deserved it or not. But first the aspiring sorcerers would have to escape the insidious talons of the Royal Inquisition.

Who are you?
You are no one. A commoner, a tradesman perhaps, no one the kingdom would ever really care about as an individual, for now. By a convenient happenstance, dumb luck, or maybe fate, you found something from the sacred library of the old mage’s academy. Most people would rip it to pieces, burn it even. The possession of just a page from an old spellcraft text would have a mere commoner staring down an Inquisitor’s blade. Yet you keep it hidden instead of doing the sensible thing and destroying it. Perhaps given time, you can learn something from it. Prophecy works in mysterious ways, and it is nothing if not relentless. You are now a part of the Sorcerers’ Cycle.

What can you do?
It takes months of study, practice, discipline, and a clear and focused mind to practice even the simplest techniques when conjuring aetheric power in its purest, cleanest form. It takes less than ten minutes and some frustration for a desperate soul to summon power beyond description. The power of the aether is bent and shaped by the willpower of the wielder, but is attracted to and colored by the emotions of its host. This is the danger of the aether’s multifaceted nature. Even an amateur will realize that strong emotion seemingly amplifies their power, and that power feels good. Without formal training, most self-taught magic wielders fall into the trap that is the darker form of aetheric energy, and everyone who wields it is invariably twisted and consumed by the emotions they feed it with, by unrelenting powerlust, or are destroyed by the raw power they cannot hope to contain.

The magical possibilities of channeling the aether are as limitless as the imagination of the wielder. Given enough willpower and aetherial energy to make it so, anything is possible. A great and powerful fighter can defeat dozens of opponents and slay any beast living or undead, but a great and powerful mage can level whole cities in seconds. The capability of a would-be sorcerer is limited only by what they can will to happen, and how much power they can channel and contain within themself without being ripped apart.

What happens now?
It is only a matter of time before Vahlen’s inquisitors find you. They seemingly smell the magic emanating from those who channel aetherial power. Some believe the ancient knowledge of the old academy has been given to the Royal Inquisition to aid in their hunt. Some even believe the mage academy is not shut down but instead trains inquisitors in the ways of magic for themselves. No one dares speak such heresies aloud.

You must avoid the bloodhounds for as long as you can. Whether with dangerously intoxicating power, or with steel of your choice, you must prepare yourself to fight for your life. Sooner or later, you will need to. It will take all of your practiced skills, and no small amount of luck to survive and escape. How far are you willing to go when everything is on the line? How far is too far?
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Character Framework
Basic:
Name: Name given at birth/legal name.
Aliases: Include both accepted and resented pseudonyms/nicknames.
Sex: Needs no explanation.
Appearance:
Physique: Include any relevant identifying characteristics. No amount of pictures can substitute for a well-written description.
Wardrobe: Include signature apparel and general fashion preferences.
Demeanor: Include all non-physical components of general appearance e.g. mannerisms. Focus on baseline rather than specialized interactions.
Psych Profile:
Goals/Motivations: Where does this person see themself down the road? What is it they hope to do? What keeps them doing what they’re doing? Section by item and explain.
Fears/Regrets: What is this person running from? What do they wish they could take back? What do they avoid at all costs?
Psychology: Describe more general thought patterns & processes. Be detailed and thorough. Explain in detail why they make the decisions they do.
Daily Routine: Walk through a daily routine. Make note of the (lack of) personal significance of all things.
History:
Upbringing: Focus on early history and any relevant events within.
Defining Period/Event: Describe in detail the event that set them on their current path. Clearly show how the events that take place achieve that.
Noteworthy Incidents: Describe any other events in more recent history that are of relevance to the character or their reputation.
Abilities:
Best Qualities: Defining positive personality attributes
Worst Qualities: Defining negative personality attributes
Strengths: Defining positive skills and physical abilities.
Weaknesses: Defining negative physical limitations.
Ties:
Family: Section by relevant family members. Focus on describing perception and relationship.
Friends/Allies: Section by individual. Explain relationships well.
Enemies: Section by individual. Explain relationships and the causal circumstances.
Trinkets/Paraphernalia: Any physical object that holds meaning to the individual.


Certification Sheet

Primary Alias: The name they give when asked.
Appearance: Abridged, but sufficient, visual definition of the character.
Reputation: The information other characters would be expected to know.
Recent History: A writing excerpt from their relatively recent past. Doubles as writing sample (under 1000 words please).
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