Gisk — Roleplayer Guild

Duncan Allistair sat on a reclined couch in a workshop littered with metal scraps and tools.  The exacting neatness of his clothes was at odds with the disorder that surrounded him, and he distracted himself from it with a hand written, leather bound book he read.  A research report from his eldest daughter.  It held nothing new or interesting to him.  He wore one of his more subdued outfits, powder blue waistcoat and trousers, a yellow cravat.  His pale yellow jacket was folded neatly and draped over the back of the couch.  He had eschewed a wig for the day, and his shining silver head was bare.  

The workshop was a single roomed building that sat not on a foundation, but floating surprisingly still in the middle of the Inner Circle.  It hovered as a bridge between the entire tower owned by the Allistair family, and the penthouse suite that Gideon Lockheed rented.  The Artificer in question had shared a partnership with Duncan for many years, and this floating arrangement was borne out of convenience for the both of them.  It was owned and kept exclusively by Gideon, much to the chagrin of the neater-minded Magus.

Duncan did not put his book down when the door to Gideon's apartment opened, and maintained his attitude of disinterest even as a large lump of clay -  A bust, he knew, of Queen Isabella -  was hurled through the air and soared past his head.

"She did not like it?" Duncan asked, apparently uncaring.  His voice was almost human, but had a slight tinny vibration that belied the fact that it was produced by a set of metal vocal chords.  

"A damned insult to my craft!" Gideon was already raging, as if he had skipped to the middle of his rant to save time.  He was moving swiftly to where the clay bust had landed to pick it up viciously, untying his uncharacteristically neat hair from its bun as he walked.  He slapped the now mostly mishapen lump of clay onto a nearby table and glared at it as if it, and not the woman it represented, had been the one to insult him.  

Gideon, as it transpired, had been contracted to create a new face for the Queen, who had long since been completely Technomantic.  Her old one was made out of interlocking metal plates.  A work of pure genius, but outdated in comparison to the one that Duncan himself sported, which was made out of a single, solid piece of silver that had been enchanted to be malleable as flesh.  

"What she says to my face is only half of it, you know," Gideon was quieter now, but still obviously angry.  His voice was just as artificial as Duncan's, but it was harder to tell.  

"I expect she's telling everyone who will hear that she's waiting on a new face," Duncan said, "But the Artificer she's hired is taking too long."

"I'm sure of it," Gideon was half-heartedly trying to reform  the Queen's bust on his table.  "This one was accurate to the molecule.  I checked.  She asks for perfection and I give it."  

Duncan turned the page in the journal, still not looking at Gideon. "You gave what she asked for," he said dryly, "But not what she wanted."

Gideon slammed his scalpel down after making a particularly vicious swipe on the bust.  "What?"  

Finally he put the book down and stood up.  He was tall and thin, almost surreal looking.  "You don't know people very well.  People are vain.  Even when they say they aren't.  Me, I'm honest about it.  I told you I wanted to be better looking.  She won't say that, but it's what she expects.  Because you did it for me.  Accentuate her best features... downplay the bad."  He looked over the now thoroughly mangled bust.  "And maybe give her some good eyes.  I've been meaning to have you make me a new set..." 

---

It was a street in the odd zone between the Inner Circle and Outer Ring.  The sort of place where different people had different ideas over which it belonged to.  The poorer who lived there liked to say it was the Inner Circle, to feel like they lived among the affluent.  The moderately wealthy admitted that it was the Outer Ring, but didn't talk about it much, as they aspired to move to nicer places further in.  

It was normally a fairly active community, with Magi, Artificers, and the Ignorant all common sights.  This borderlands district was one of the few places where there was at least some semblance of social equality.  It was where most business between the higher and lower castes was done, and basic politeness made the Ignorant here feel like they might have a window into higher society.  

This morning, however, this particular street was nearly abandoned.  For one thing, it was fairly early.  The sun was barely rising, and not even visible in some places thanks to the towering buildings.  For another thing, there was blood running down the gutters and into the storm drains.  The trail of red ran down a slight incline from an alley between older brick buildings, where its source lay, still breathing, but weakly.

Two forms in stark gray, but with shiny heads and visible hands were approaching.  One bent down to the woman whose arm was severed from the elbow.  The woman flinched as the Automata took her arm in his hands and clamped his thumb and forefinger in a ring around the stump.  The bleeding stopped almost immediately, and the woman groaned weakly.  

"Can you speak?" the Automata still standing asked, looking down at her with his hands in his pockets, apparently somewhat disinterested.  The woman did not reply, so the Automata made a sound similar to a sigh and lifted a small aluminum sphere from his pocket.  It had two nodes, one one each side.  One was gold, and the other copper.  The Automata lifted the orb with the gold node facing his mouth and spoke a short message, "Fifth and King's Way, need a stretcher and mercury."  He dropped his hand, but the sphere remained floating, and then flew away, out of the alley and down the street.  

"Clean cut," the other officer noted, looking at the stump.  "Must have been a sharp one.  Probably titanium.  No blood leading anywhere else, that's weird.  What you think, Marv?"  

Marv made the strange sigh noise again.  "Scavver," his partner nodded in agreement.  "He was pretty well prepared, I guess.  We'll get her healed and hauled off.  Maybe she can tell us something useful when she's stronger.  In the mean time, try not to disturb anything... I don't want to deal with this..."

"Me neither," he replied quietly, "We'll get the ball rolling and shunt it to Crowley."  

"Ha, sounds like a plan."

There is a lot to read, try not to skim.  Post CSes in the OOC for approval.  Do not post them in the Character tab until I have said you may.   

A world divided by castes. There are the Magi, who enchant the machines that run the world, the Artificers who create them, and the Ignorant Trades who make up every other aspect of life. 

It is common and even fashionable to replace parts of one's own body with technomantic enhancements. Only the poorest of the poor are known to be wholly their original biology. 

The richest of the rich, meanwhile, extend their life into eternity by replacing parts as they break down, eventually becoming entirely technomantic. 

Normal sciences in this world never advanced, instead solutions to most problems were solved with Technomancy, which is the enchantment of machinery.  It is produced through collaboration between Artificers and Magi.  In most cases, the Artificer first builds the device, and then it is enchanted by a Magus, though for some pieces of Technomancy the materials to build do not exist in a natural form, and must be manufactured through magic.  

The machines follow basic physical laws, but are powered and controlled by the magic infused into the metal. So a prosthetic arm would still have physical joints built in, but there would be no wires or gears connecting and moving parts.  They would be animated on their own.

Though only a Magus can perform an enchantment, metal that is already enchanted can be altered(carefully) into a new form by an artificer. Many less affluent artificers work primarily with recycled parts, rather than partnering with a Magus. 
Most enchantments are destroyed at high temperatures, but the metal can be heated enough to reshape it before the enchantment breaks. They cannot be melted entirely, however. Alterations have to be made through an arduous cycle of heating, and reshaping by force. It is far too easy to tip the temperature too high and lose the magic. 

One of the most ubiquitous uses of Technomancy is in the prosthetic enhancement added to most citizens of Everden.  When such enhancements were invented, they were to replace missing limbs and used out of medical necessity.  Now people willingly relinquish their biological parts for Technomantic replacements, for utility or fashion.  Many even in the Ignorant Trades have the tools of their profession built into their bodies.  It is not uncommon for Artificers in particular to have not just replaced their own limbs, but to have added extra appendages to aid them in their art.  

Various different metals have unique properties that can be enchanted into them.  They are as follows.

Iron: Moves with most force, creating the strongest limbs. 
Iron can also be given selective magnetism.  
Difficulty: 3

Copper: Moves the fastest, good for skilled laborers.
Copper can also be enchanted to let off energy in the form of light, heat, or electricity.  
Difficulty: 4

Mercury: Stimulates healing, and particularly advanced enchantments can repair breaks and cracks in metal. Repairs it makes in metal merely fuse it back together. It cannot repair broken devices with moving parts. 
It is a catalyst and is not used up when it takes effect. 
Difficulty: 7(9 to repair metal). 

Titanium: Can be made indestructible. A tricky thing to do, because once this enchantment is placed the piece becomes inalterable. A blade would remain sharp forever, but a box of titanium could never be opened. 
Difficulty: 6

Aluminum: Can levitate. The strength of its lift depends on the skill of the Magi, and the mass of aluminum. 
Difficulty: 6

Silver: Can be made significantly more malleable. Good for anything mimicking organic movement.
Difficulty: 8

Gold: Can transmit nerve signals back to the owner. Different configurations can be used to simulate different sensations. Gideon and Duncan work extensively in gold. 
Difficulty: 9

Palladium: Stores information, encoded in the magic. Can therefore store commands and instructions, and is necessary for any automated function, as well as the transferring of a living consciousness to a machine. 
Difficulty: It ranges. A simple message stored would be 3, but creating a functioning automaton would be 10. It's easier to transfer a consciousness to an Automata body than to create an intelligence, hence the Automata Corps using volunteers rather than artificial intelligence. 

Platinum: Absorbs and steals magical properties. Can pierce titanium because it becomes indestructible while stripping titanium's indestructibility. 
Bonds to its owner apparently of its own accord. The bond is strong and takes a long time to transfer to a new owner. The owner can control its movement, and if there is levitating aluminum around it can fly around by its owner's will. 
Powerful, dangerous, and ironic. It's the height of Technomancy, but renders all nearby Technomancy useless and can only be used by a fully organic(or fully platinum) being.
Difficulty: impossible. There are known examples of it, but no living Magi has been able to perform the enchantment, and few Artificers can even get their hands on the metal to work with it.

Those who have mastered the art infusing metal with magic from their own being.  There was a time when the Magi were formed to serve the people of Everden, but that purpose has been corrupted.  The high demand for their services ensures that the prices are also high.  Now, they stand at the top of society, running the world while claiming to serve it.

The art is kept secret within bloodlines, passed only to children who are brought up being taught how vital it is to the peace of the realm that their power be kept within the family.  

The youngest Magi take on the majority of the workload, under the pretense of gaining experience in their craft.  Even these lowest of the Magi perform their obligatory duties to society with an air of superiority and disdain for those that they supposedly serve.  

Though the Magi as a whole are the height of society in Everden, they are not all equal.  Centuries ago, when the art of Technomancy was first developed and the roles of Magi and Artificer did not yet exist, a small group of ambitious practitioners of the young art made a quiet power grab.  They bought all of the knowledge they could, and quickly cornered the market until they were the only options to commission magic from.  From that group of new Magi, three families rose to great wealth and status.  Alistair, Mobeus, and Elrix.  The third family is extinct as far as anyone knows, but House Alistair and House Mobeus(as they insist on being called) still exist to this day.  House Alistair is charged with serving the Royal Family, and House Mobeus controls most of the Technomancy market.  Those who don't belong to one of these families still hold the title "Magus" but often play subservient roles.

Talented machinists and engineers.  They hold the secrets to metallurgy and metal working, and hold them closely within their caste.  Though they don't enchant their machines themselves, their knowledge is vital to the Magi's ability to do so.  

There is a wide range of financial and social standing within the Artificer class.  They can range from skilled factory workers to artists of celebrity standing.  Unlike the Magi, Artificers don't have ranks within their caste, official or otherwise.  They are utilitarian through and through, and are rewarded for effort and skill.

When the Magi separated themselves from common society, those who practiced the artifice followed suite.  They formed a guild and made pacts to keep their knowledge out of others hands, mainly to ensure that the Magi did not receive the entirety of the secrets of Technomancy.

Everyone else.  This is a term coined by the high society that is made up of the two higher castes, and it became so prevalent in society that even the lower castes just accept it as a part of their identity.  Though the majority is in relative poverty, there are some trades that can still make decent money.  Those who provide luxury services to the two higher castes live in comfort, though some would say it is at the cost of their dignity.

The Inner Circle is a cityscape of grand proportions, not all of whose architecture makes physical sense.  There are buildings that sit on impossibly thin spirals of enchanted metal, or that bend and twist upward and outward to points where they should collapse under their own weight.  The architecture is a testament to the impossible, which mirrors the grandiose self image of the Magi class that rules.

These grand buildings span for miles in a rough circle, and start to thin out at the edges, where the city extends still further in more modest fashion.  This “Outer Ring” is where the majority of the poorer Ignorant Trade live and work.  The border on the outside of the Outer Ring is a literal wall that is more to keep the wilderness out than the people in.  The Magi, as a rule, abhor the disorder outside of the city, and impose their standards of regularity and ordinance on the Outer Ring.  The border on the inside of the Outer Ring is made of social obligation.  The Ignorant Trade is simply expected not to enter the Inner Circle uninvited.  For the most part, they do not. 

The only people who have need to go beyond the city are farmers and those who work collecting raw resources.  Both trades are well respected among the common people, but the Magi and Artificers rarely see them in action.  Those higher classes are wont to pretending that metal, food and the like are simply available to buy, without considering where they come from.  Even so, miners and prospectors who gather metals(both precious and common) are well rewarded for their efforts.

The Magi, as the richest level of Everden society, determine the height of fashion. They enjoy complex, and carefully controlled outfits. Tightly fitting waistcoats and trousers, ties tucked into their vests. Outfits never have excess fabric or freely hanging parts. Jackets are short, not extending below the waist. 

In keeping with the fashion theme of neatness and order, hair is often carefully braided, or sculpted meticulously with copious amounts of styling products. It is also very popular to keep one's head shaved. 

Most of these fashions are specific to the Inner Circle, though the highest social circles are known for selectively eschewing stylistic norms to set themselves apart. This is something a lower Magus could not do without being a subject of rude gossip.

There is a long-instated royal family, the matriarch of which has been ruling for nearly four hundred years now.  The Royal Family are neither Artificers nor Magi, and occupy a strange place outside of the caste system.  Unlike the Artificers and Magi, they have no qualms with marrying outside of their caste, as they have no secret knowledge to protect.  But unlike the Ignorant, they are a part of higher society and are provided for without effort.  
When Queen Isabella Crepley took the Silver Throne, Technomancy was still a relatively young art, and the Royal Family still held a seat of unimpeachable power.  Since then, though, the indispensable position of the Magi has made them untouchable by the powers that be, and they have become the de facto rulers of the city.  Isabella has watched as the same practitioners of magic and artifice that kept her alive usurped her authority.  The next oldest member of the family is fully half of Queen Isabella's age, and she is left the only person in the world who remembers a time before the Magi Hegemony.  

Peace is kept by the Automata Corps, which was instated three hundred years ago.  It is made up of individuals who were given a complete Technomantic body, in return for a lifetime of service to the realm.  The longevity of Technomancy ensures that Automata could conceivably serve forever.  The Automata swear a ceremonial oath to the Queen, but it is the Magi head of the Corps(Magus Duncan Alistair) who commands them directly.  There are rumors that their Technomancy forces their obedience to him, but no Automata has ever confirmed this.  

The Automata are given uniform Technomancy bodies, but are allowed to make aesthetic modifications with approval from their superiors.  The standard issue is a copper based filigree design, their primary weapon being a titanium blade built into their right arm.  The blade is created by first honing to a razor edge, and then enchanted to be indestructible(a feat of magic that can only be done on titanium).  

Though the Automata Corps is responsible for keeping peace and apprehending criminals, judgment is dispensed traditionally by members of the Royal Family. The seriousness of the case determines how high up the line of succession the judge comes from. Petty criminals often have harsh punishments doled out; lower members of the family have been known to sentence criminals to stripping of their Technomancy, only to turn around and sell it for recycling to line their own pockets.

Magus Duncan Allistair. 

Unnaturally tall and vaguely otherworldly in appearance, most(if not all) of Magus Allistair's body is Technomantic. His legs and arms are longer and thinner than his original, with finely crafted spindly fingers. His joints have a larger range of movement than is natural, allowing his body to twist into unusual shapes; a talent that he loves to display as a parlor trick. His enhancements are primarily of rose gold, and his body has a dark, rich luster. The gold is intricately filigreed. 
The exception is his face, which is a marvel of Technomancy. It is silver, cast into the shape of his previous natural face, but it has been enchanted(by himself, he will tell you with pride) to be malleable like flesh, and it moves to give him a fully expressive face. How deep the enhancements on his head and face go are not known, though one can still see his tongue behind his perfectly carved ivory teeth(what's the point of luxury without a sense of taste?). 

He dresses in finely tailored clothes, primarily of silk, in a variety of rich colors. His head is usually covered by any of a series of wigs. His favorite is a head of luscious raven locks.  
All of his appearance is a testament to his vanity. Even his face, those who are close to him will whisper at parties, is younger in appearance and ever so subtly more handsome than he truly is. 

Gideon Lockheed. 

A talented Artificer, in stark contrast to his colleague and long-time Technomancy parter, Duncan, Gideon leaves his head and face quite natural, displaying his age in the wrinkles that have started to form around his eyes and mouth and his graying hair. The exceptions are his eyes, which are an absolute work of art, most people don't realize on first glance that they are prosthetic. They allow him to see minute details up close, or at great distance. 

The lower half of his face is framed with metal around his jaw line, extending to the Technomancy that encases his throat, this silver is enchanted to move like flesh, maintaining the movement range of his head. His vocal cords have been replaced with a very sophisticated metal facsimile, that allows him to alter his voice at will, as well as increase his volume tenfold. He uses it primarily for opera. These enhancements extend down his torso and arms, and all are in smooth and well polished silver, with fine gold inlays. His joints are of similar make and quality to Duncan's, but are plainer and left in his natural proportions. He does, however, break away from natural anatomy in the addition of a second set of arms that sit below his normal ones. The hands of these are much daintier, the fingers already long and able to extend further. There Is a series of compact tools worked into the forearms; he can select one to extend outward from the palm. He uses these to work on the most delicate projects. 
His knees ankles and hips were replaced somewhat recently, a reaction to faint pains that he suspected were the onset of arthritis.

Nathaniel Flint 
A physician in the Outer Ring. 
His hands are copper, the finest made he could afford. They are quick and agile, useful for surgery with a retractable scalpel built into the first two fingers of either hand.  

Michael Thatcher
A carpenter, his hands and forearms are replaced by simple, but strong iron versions. He paid a little more for finer workmanship in the finger joints, to allow him to hold his tools. He does fine work and has many customers in the Inner Circle, allowing him to afford the rent on an apartment with a workshop just inside the Circle.
A dark skinned man, who keeps his hair and beard short to stay out of his way. 

Zachary Thatcher
Michael's younger brother, who has sort of piggy backed off of his success. A simple lumber jack by trade, but his brother gifted him a hefty set of iron arms, calves and feet. They are very simple, and somewhat clumsy, but more than adequate for his work. Though more extensive than his brother's enhancements, the lower quality made them similar in price. His added strength and stamina in his arms let him work faster and longer at felling trees outside of the walls of the Outer Ring. His feet are to protect him from stumbling and hurting himself when walking among fallen branches. 

Taller and thicker built than his brother. He lets his hair and beard grow wild, heedless of twigs and dirt that get caught in them. Though his appearance contrasts from his brother, their professions make them natural partners. 

Tobias Bell
A butcher. His body is entirely organic, he works in the center of the Outer Ring, and struggles to get by. He saved up two years worth of income over the course of the last ten to purchase a titanium cleaver. Though it makes his job easier and faster, and saves him on tool maintenance, he regrets the extravagant purchase.

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